Paints as you plant, and as you work, designs.
In short, almost every thing here has an agreeable wildness, and a pleasing irregularity, that cannot fail to charm all who are in love with nature, and afford a much higher and more lasting satisfaction than the stiff decorations of art, where the artist loses sight of nature which alone ought to direct his hand.
On entering these rural walks, you are conducted to the dairy, a neat but low brick building, to which there is an ascent by a flight of steps; in the front is a handsome angular pediment. The walls on the inside are covered with stucco, and the house is furnished suitably to a royal dairy, the utensils for the milk being of the most beautiful china.
Passing by the side of a canal, and thro’ a grove of trees, the temple presents itself to view, situated on a mount. It is a circular dome crowned with a ball, and supported by Tuscan columns, with a circular altar in the middle, and to this temple there is an ascent by very steep slopes.
Returning by the dairy, and crossing the gravel walk, which leads from the palace to the river, you come to a wood, which you enter by a walk terminated by the Queen’s pavilion, a neat elegant structure, wherein is seen a beautiful chimney-piece, taken from a design in the addition to Palladio, and a model of a palace intended to be built in this place.
In another part of the wood is the Duke’s summer house, which has a lofty arched entrance, and the roof rising to a point is terminated by a ball.
On leaving the wood you come to the summer house on the terrace, a light small building with very large and lofty windows, to give a better view of the country, and particularly of that noble seat called Sion house. In this edifice are two good pictures, representing the taking of Vigo by the Duke of Ormond.
Passing through a labyrinth, you see, near a pond, Merlin’s cave, a Gothic building thatched; within which are the following figures in wax, Merlin, an ancient British enchanter; the excellent and learned Queen Elizabeth, and a Queen of the Amazons; here is also a library consisting of a well chosen collection of the works of modern authors neatly bound in vellum.
On leaving this edifice, which has an antique and venerable appearance, you come to a large oval of above 500 feet in diameter, called the Forest oval, and turning from hence you have a view of the Hermitage, a grotesque building, which seems as if it had stood many hundred years, though it was built by order of her late Majesty. It has three arched doors, and the middle part which projects forward, is adorned with a kind of ruinous angular pediment; the stones of the whole edifice appear as if rudely laid together, and the venerable look of the whole is improved by the thickness of the solemn grove behind, and the little turret on the top with a bell, to which you may ascend by a winding walk. The inside is in the form of an octagon with niches, in which are the busts of the following truly great men, who by their writings were an honour not only to their country, but to human nature. The first on the right hand is the incomparable Sir Isaac Newton, and next to him the justly celebrated Mr. John Locke. The first on the left hand is Mr. Woolaston, the author of The Religion of Nature displayed; next to him is the reverend and learned Dr. Samuel Clarke, and in a kind of alcove is the truly honourable Mr. Robert Boyle.
Leaving this seat of contemplation, you pass through fields cloathed with grass; through corn fields, and a wild ground interspersed with broom and furze, which afford excellent shelter for hares and pheasants, and here there are great numbers of the latter very tame. From this pleasing variety, in which nature appears in all her forms of cultivation and barren wildness, you come to an amphitheatre formed by young elms, and a diagonal wilderness, through which you pass to the forest walk, which extends about half a mile, and then passing through a small wilderness, you leave the gardens.