Though woods, from various causes, are now more rare than heretofore amongst you, yet are there, in most parts, some still remaining; their natural beauties are many, and little more is left for art to do in them, than to form roads, to thin or thicken them occasionally; where it may be wanting, to intersperse, amongst the plantations, a few proper shrubs and flowers; to open recesses, and to decorate them with objects; this done, they will be infinitely superior, in every respect, to any of the gaudy trifling confused plantations with which all your English-made Gardens are so crouded.

England abounds with commons and wilds, dreary, barren, and serving only to give an uncultivated appearance to the country, particularly near the metropolis: to beautify these vast tracts of land, is next to an impossibility; but they may easily be framed into scenes of terror, converted into noble pictures of the sublimest cast, and, by an artful contrast, serve to enforce the effect of gayer and more luxuriant prospects.

On some of them are seen gibbets, with wretches hanging in terrorem upon them; on others, forges, collieries, mines, coal tracts, brick or lime kilns, glass-*works, and different objects of the horrid kind: what little vegetation they have, is dismal; the animals that feed upon it, are half-famished to the artist's hands; and the cottagers, with the huts in which they dwell, want no additional touches, to indicate their misery: a few uncouth straggling trees, some ruins, caverns, rocks, torrents, abandoned villages, in part consumed by fire, solitary hermitages, and other similar objects, artfully introduced and blended with gloomy plantations, would compleat the aspect of desolation, and serve to fill the mind, where there was no possibility of gratifying the senses.

In prosecuting a plan of this extensive nature, many other opportunities would present themselves to the able artist, of dignifying nature, and of heightening his compositions with all the force of novelty and grandeur; stone quarries, chalk pits, mines, might as easily be framed into vast amphitheatres, rustic arcades and perystiles, extensive subterraneous habitations, grottos, vaulted roads, and passages, as into other shapes; hills might, without much difficulty, be transformed into stupendous rocks, by partial incrustations of stone, judiciously mixed with turf, fern, wild shrubs and forest trees; gravel pits, or other similar excavations, might be converted into the most romantic scenery imaginable, by the addition of some planting, intermixed with ruins, fragments of sculpture, inscriptions, or any other little embellishments; and, in short, there would be no deviation, however trifling, from the usual march of nature, but what would suggest, to a fruitful imagination, some extraordinary arrangement, something to disguise her vulgarity, to rouse the attention of the spectator, and to excite in his mind a succession of strong and opposite sensations.

It is thus that far the noblest part of our Chinese Gardens, and those which at first sight appear most impracticable, may be obtained even amongst the common dispositions of English nature; and the great might thus have pleasure-grounds, extensive and extraordinary as those of the East, without any very considerable expence: men of less note would naturally imitate their superiors, by embellishing their possessions in the same manner; and instead of spending large sums to fence and to lard a little field with twigs, to give it the name of a Garden, they would beautify their whole estate; which, by a proper attention to the œconomical precepts of our Chinese Gardeners, might be done in such a manner as to encrease its value, as well as improve its appearance.

By these means this whole kingdom might soon become one magnificent vast Garden, bounded only by the sea; the many noble seats and villas with which it abounds, would give uncommon consequence to the scenery; and it might still be rendered more splendid, if, instead of disfiguring your churches with monuments, our Chinese manner of erecting mausoleums by the sides of the roads was introduced amongst you; and if all your public bridges were adorned with triumphal arches, rostral pillars, bas-reliefs, statues, and other indications of victory, and glorious atchievements in war: an empire transformed into a splendid Garden, with the imperial mansion towering on an eminence in the center,[23] and the palaces of the nobles scattered like pleasure-pavilions amongst the plantations, infinitely surpasses any thing that even the Chinese ever attempted: yet vast as the design appears, the execution is certainly within your reach.

Such, as far as I am able to judge, continued our Orator, is the true application of nature to horticulture; perhaps the only one that can be attempted with success: wherever she is made in little, or introduced upon a confined plan, the effect is always trifling and bad, as will appear to any man of real taste, who inspects the artificial scenery even of your most approved gardens: Nature admits of no reduction in her dimensions; trees will not grow in miniature; nor are her bold movements to be expressed upon the surface of a few acres: and not to mention any of your performances, it is scarcely in the power of the most consummate art, to imitate nature perfectly; nor were it possible, could the most skilful arrangements acquire their true effect, till after the expiration of many years: our children may see the perfection of what we plant; we never can.

Our eastern artists, therefore, seldom attempt to create, but rather imitate the tonsor, the habit-maker, the posture-master, and all the other polishers of man; who dispose, decorate, cleanse, clip, and add grace to what is already formed to their hands: to make nature, they say, is tedious and difficult beyond conception; but she may soon be embellished, her redundancys suppressed, her faults corrected, her wants supplied, her beauties improved, and set to view.

The truth of these assertions is, I think, apparent in many of your famous plantations; but the beauties of improved natural scenery, the defects of artificial, are no where so strongly marked as at B——m, the most magnificent seat I have yet seen in Europe. On our entrance into the Park, we were astonished at the sight of a stupendous palace, surrounded with one of the noblest scenes of nature that can be imagined; the extent is vast, the parts uncommonly large, the grounds naturally well contrasted, the transitions bold, the plantations in perfect maturity: what assistance was necessary from art, has hitherto been judiciously administered; the removal of some trees, has exposed to view beauties that seem before to have been concealed; the addition of some others, has enriched parts that were bare; and the trifling, though very judicious circumstance of raising a head at the end of a valley, has obtained a very considerable lake of water, which enriches and enlivens all the prospects; and which, by following the natural bent or windings of the valley, has taken, without any assistance from art, the most picturesque forms that could be desired: in short, the whole is now admirable; and, when improved to the utmost, according to the design of the munificent owner, will yet be more so. Ornaments to characterize the Garden more strongly, are yet wanting, and some masterly finishing touches still very necessary: one only little twining path, within ten cubits of the fence, is certainly not in character with the grandeur of the place; but the fence may be removed; and there is room, even now, on the declivity of the banks, and by the sides of the lake, for more considerable walks, with many recesses, which, when made and decorated, will add variety to grandeur, and render the whole as entertaining and splendid, as it is now great.