Part 2

_But in Excuse for the Meaning of the Performance it may be said, that it is not designed to be considered as a finished Piece: This View was not taken upon the Spot, as it ought to have been, but only from my Memory and a few loose Scratches; if the Public therefore will call it only a rough Draught, or at best a coloured Sketch, my Ambition will be fully satisfied. The Curious therefore must purchase it rather from their necessity than its Merit; as they do meaner Engravings of the Cartoons, where Dorigny's are not to be had: "'Tis true, Gentlemen, says the Print-seller, they are far from being good, but take my Word for it, you will meet with no better."_

A

DIALOGUE

UPON THE

GARDENS _of the Right Honourable the_ Lord Viscount COBHAM, _&c._

_Polypthon_ was a Gentleman engaged in a way of Life, that excused him two Months in the Year from Business; which Time he used generally to spend in visiting what was curious in the several Counties around him. As he had long promised his Friend _Callophilus_ to pass away his Vacancy, at some time or other, in _Buckinghamshire_, he determined upon it this Year; and accordingly paid him a Visit at * * *. _Stow_ was one of the first Places where his Curiosity carried him; and indeed he had scarce got his Foot within the Garden-door, before he broke out into the following Exclamation.

Why, here is a View that gives me a kind of Earnest of what my Expectation is raised to!

It is a very fine one indeed (replied _Callophilus_:) I do not wonder it should catch your Sight: The old Ruin upon the left of the Canal, the Opening to the Pyramid, the View towards the House, the River, the beautiful Disposition of the Trees on the other side of it, and that venerable old Temple, make a fine Variety of Objects. But your Eye is so taken up with Views at a distance, that you neglect something here at hand very well worth your notice. What do you think of these two Pavilions?

_Polypth._ Why really they are light, genteel Buildings enough. I like these rough Paintings too; they are done in a very free, masterly Manner. Pray, Sir, do you know the Stories?

_Calloph._ They are both taken from _Pastor Fido_; the disconsolate Nymph there, poor _Dorinda_, had long been in love with _Sylvio_, a wild Hunter, of barbarous Manners, in whose Breast she had no reason to believe she had raised an answering Passion. As she was roving in the Woods, she accidentally met his Dog, and saw her beloved Hunter himself at a distance hollowing, and running after it. She immediately calls the Hound to her, and hides it amongst the Bushes. _Sylvio_ comes up to her, and enquires very eagerly after his Dog: The poor Nymph puts him off, and tries all her Art to inspire him with Love, but to no purpose; the cold Youth was quite insensible, and his Thoughts could admit no other Object but his Dog. Almost despairing, she at length hopes to bribe his Affections, and lets him know she has his Dog, which she will return if he will promise to love her, and give her a Kiss; _Sylvio_ is overjoyed at the Proposal, and promises to give her ten thousand Kisses. _Dorinda_ upon this brings the Dog: but alas! see there the Success of all her Pains: the Youth transported at the Sight of his Dog, throws his Arms round its Neck, and lavishes upon it those Kisses and Endearments, in the very Sight of the poor afflicted Lady, which she had been flattering herself would have fallen to her share.--On this other Wall Disdain and Love have taken different Sides; the Youth is warm, and the Nymph is coy: Poor _Myrtillo_ had long loved _Amarillis_; the Lady was engaged to another, and rejected his Passion. Gladly would he only have spoke his Grief, but the cruel fair One absolutely forbid him her Presence. At length a Scheme was laid by _Corisca_, the young Lover's Confidant, which was to gain him Admission into his dear _Amarillis_'s Company. The Lady is enticed into the Fields with some of _Corisca_'s Companions, (who were let into the Plot) to play at Blindman's Buff, where _Myrtillo_ was to surprize her. See there he stands hesitating what use to make of so favourable an Opportunity, which Love has put into his Hands.----If you have satisfied your Curiosity here, let us walk towards the Temple of _Venus_. But hold: we had better first go down towards that Wilderness, and take a View of the Lake.

_Polypth._ Upon my Word here is a noble Piece of Water!

_Calloph._ Not many Years ago I remember it only a Marsh: it surprized me prodigiously when I first saw it floated in this manner with a Lake. Observe, pray, what a fine Effect that old Ruin has at the Head of it: Its Ornaments too, the Cascade, the Trees and Shrubs, half concealing, and half discovering the ragged View, and the Obelisk rising beyond if, are Objects happily disposed.

_Polypth._ Yes, indeed, I think the Ruin a great Addition to the Beauty of the Lake. There is something so vastly picturesque, and pleasing to the Imagination in such Objects, that they are a great Addition to every Landskip. And yet perhaps it would be hard to assign a reason, why we are more taken with Prospects of this ruinous kind, than with Views of Plenty and Prosperity in their greatest Perfection: Benevolence and Good-nature, methinks, are more concerned in the latter kind.

_Calloph._ Yes: but cannot you make a distinction between natural and moral Beauties? Our social Affections undoubtedly find their Enjoyment the most compleat when they contemplate, a Country smiling in the midst of Plenty, where Houses are well-built, Plantations regular, and every thing the most commodious and useful. But such Regularity and Exactness excites no manner of Pleasure in the Imagination, unless they are made use of to contrast with something of an opposite kind. The Fancy is struck by _Nature_ alone; and if _Art_ does any thing more than improve her, we think she grows impertinent, and wish she had left off a little sooner. Thus a regular Building perhaps gives us very little pleasure; and yet a fine Rock, beautifully set off in Claro-obscuro, and garnished with flourishing Bushes, Ivy, and dead Branches, may afford us a great deal; and a ragged Ruin, with venerable old Oaks, and Pines nodding over it, may perhaps please the Fancy yet more than either of the other two Objects.--Yon old Hermitage, situated in the midst of this delightful Wilderness, has an exceeding good Effect: it is of the romantick Kind; and Beauties of this sort, where a probable Nature is not exceeded, are generally pleasing.----This Opening will lead us again into the Terrace.----That large Building, the Inscription lets you see, is a Temple dedicated to _Venus_.

_Polypth._ Upon my Word a Master has been at work here! I cannot say I have met with any modern Touching, this long time, that has pleased me better. I see very little to be cavilled at, with regard either to the Design, Colouring, or Drawing. These Stories are taken from the _Fairy-Queen_ I dare say; they look like _Spencer_'s Ideas.

_Calloph._ Yes: that Lady is the fair _Hellinore_, who having left a disagreeable Husband, and wandering in the Woods, was met by the polite Sett of Gentry she is dancing with: She likes their Manner of Life, and resolves to enjoy it with them. Her old Spouse _Malbecco_ is inconsolable for his Loss: he wanders many Days in search of her, and at length finds her (you see him at a distance peeping from behind a Tree) revelling with a beastly Herd of Satyrs. When the Evening comes on, he follows the Company to their Retirement, takes a commodious stand, and to his great Torment sees every thing that passes among them. After they were all laid asleep, he creeps gently to his Lady, and you see him in the other Painting offering to be reconciled to her again, if she will return back with him. But _Hellinore_ threatens to awake the Satyrs, and get him severely handled if he does not immediately leave her. Upon which the poor Cuckold is obliged to fly, and soon after runs distracted.

_Polypth._ This loose Story, these luxurious Couches, and the Embellishments round the Walls, give the Place quite a _Cyprian_ Air, and make it a very proper Retreat for its incontinent Inhabitant upon the Roof.----But let us move forward towards yon cubico-pyramidical Building. It looks like a mighty substantial one: I fancy it is Sir _John_'s; he is generally pretty liberal of his Stone. However, it terminates this Terrace extremely well: the Ascent up to it too has a good Effect.----Pray, do you know what that Field there, upon the right, is to be improved into?

_Calloph._ I am surprized the Beauty of it, in its present Form, does not strike you at first sight. It is designed, like a Glass of Bitters before Dinner, to quicken your Appetite for the elegant Entertainment that is to follow. For my part, I assure you, I find it a very great Relief to my Eye, to take it from these grand Objects, and cast it for a few Minutes upon such a rural Scene as this. Do not you think that Haycock contrasts extremely well with this Temple? Such Oppositions, in my Opinion, are highly pleasing.----That Building there is called, _The Belvidere_. Whatever you may think of it, from this Stand, it has its Use, I assure you, in several Prospects in the Gardens.----There is a very good Copy of the _Roman_ Boxers.

_Polypth._ I like its Situation extreamly: it terminates these Alleys, and that Opening from the Terrace, very beautifully; much better, I think, than the fighting Gladiator, and _Sampson_ killing the _Philistine_, do that other vast Terrace; the Objects there, in my Opinion, are too small for the Distance: Here both are justly proportioned.

_Calloph._ Your Criticism, I think, is rather too refined: I cannot see what occasion there is always for a confined View; a more open one sometimes makes Variety.

_Polypth._ You mistake me: I am not against a Prospect's being bounded even by the blue Hills in the Country. All I mean is this, that where Objects are set up to terminate a View, they ought to be of such a Nature as to afford Pleasure at any Distance they are designed to be viewed from. These Statues I have been mentioning, are Objects so small, that at one end of the Terrace it is impossible to make out what is offered you at the other.----I have too much Envy in my Temper, you must know, to bear to see any thing perfect; and I came in here fully determined to cavil, if I saw the least Grounds. But this is a sad Place, I find, for a malicious Spirit to enter: He whose chief _Entertainment_ is finding fault, will here meet with a very slender _Repast_: As the Devil did at Sight of the Creation, in spite of Envy he must cry out,

_Terrestrial Heaven!---- With what Delight could I have walk'd thee round, If I could joy in ought: Sweet Interchange Of Hill, and Valley, Rivers, Woods, and Plains! Now Land, now Sea, and Shores with Forest crown'd, Rocks, Dens, and Caves._----

But what have we got here?

_Calloph._ This is the Building we took notice of from the Temple of _Venus_. I know you are no Friend to a cloathed Statue; so I question whether you will meet with any thing here to your Taste.

_Polypth._ There is something extremely grand and noble, I have always thought, in several of the old cloathed Statues, and particularly in some of the _Roman_ consular ones; yet I must confess I am always better pleased when I find them without their Finery. Marble, tho' admirably fitted to express the Roundness of a Muscle, very often fails when it attempts to give you the Folds of Drapery. The Ancients, it must be owned, even in their Draperies are often successful; but amongst our modern Attempts in this Way, how many horrid Pieces of Rock-work have I beheld!

_atram Desinet in_ rupem _mulier_----

_Michael Angelo_, whenever he found himself obliged to cloath his Statues, used to do it with wet Linnen; which is unquestionably the most advantageous kind of Cloathing for a Statue.

_Calloph._ Since you are not to be pleased here, let us pass on to something else. There is no Occasion to turn down to that Pyramid; it is an Object not designed to be viewed at a Yard's Distance; but you will see its Use by and by, in a Variety of beautiful Views: Let us pursue our Walk along this Terrace.

_Polypth._ Why here we entirely lose sight of the Garden; our elegant Prospects are all vanished: I cannot conceive what this impertinent Hedge does here.

_Calloph._ Did you never experience in a Concert vast Pleasure when the whole Band for a few Moments made a full Pause? The Case is parallel: You have already had a great many fine Views, and that you may not be cloyed, this Hedge steps in to keep your Attention awake. One Extreme recommends another: The Moralists observe, that a little Adversity quickens our Relish for the Enjoyment of Life; and it is the Man of Taste's Care not to distribute his Beauties with too profuse a Hand, for a Reason of the same kind.

_Let not each Beauty every where be spy'd, Where half the Skill is decently to hide._

But if you must have something to look at, the Park there upon your left Hand affords you some very fine Views. I like that Equestrian Statue extremely: It is, in my Opinion, a very beautiful Circumstance. What a Number of fine Vistas it terminates thro' the Trees, varying its Appearance in each of them.--There you have a charming View struck out towards the Temple of Ancient Virtue.

_Polypth._ Methinks that Statue of the Faun stands a little aukwardly: He might at least, I should think, have fixed himself in the Middle of the Semi-circle.

_Calloph._ You do not certainly attend to his Use: He stands there to receive the Eye placed at the other End of that Opening.--That elegant little Building I think they call _Nelson_'s Seat.

_Polypth._ The Painting is done masterly enough: The Inscriptions, I see, explain the Designs. Those Boys fixing the Trophies are prettily imagined. From hence that round Building terminates the View extremely well. Let us walk to it.

_Calloph._ Hold----turn to the Right a little: We must first pay a Visit here to the Temple of _Bacchus_.

_Polypth._ We have had a pretty long Walk, suppose we sit down here a Moment: These Walls seem to promise us some Entertainment.

_Calloph._ Here, Sir, you see represented the Triumphs and Happiness of Drunkenness. Those musical Ladies too are not improper Companions to this mirthfully-disposed Deity.

_Polypth._ Some of those smaller Figures are really done extremely well: And those two Vases are delightfully touched. I cannot say I am so much pleased with the jolly Inhabitant: Even _Bacchus_ himself certainly never made so enormous a Figure.

_Calloph._ I am admiring the fine View from hence: So great a Variety of beautiful Objects, and all so happily disposed, make a most delightful Picture. Don't you think this Building too is a very genteel one, and is extremely well situated? These Trees give it an agreeable, cool Air, and make it, I think, as elegant a Retreat for the Enjoyment of a Summer's Evening, as can well be imagined.----But it is mere trifling to sit here: Let us walk towards the Rotunda.----This little Alley will carry us to _Dido_'s Cave.

_Polypth._ _Dido_'s Cave! why 'tis built of hewn Stone! Here she is however, and her _pious_ Companion along with her.

_Calloph._ Those two Cupids joining their Torches, I never see but I admire extremely: they are very finely painted.

_Polypth._ I think they are indeed. But let us be a little complaisant, and not interrupt these kind Lovers too long. I want to see this Rotunda.

_Calloph._ There then you have it: I hope you cannot complain of an heavy Building here. I do not know any Piece of Stone-work in the whole Garden that shews itself to more Advantage than this does, or makes a more beautiful Figure in a Variety of fine Views from several Parts of the Garden: Several Parts of the Garden likewise return the Compliment, by offering a great many very elegant Prospects to it. There you have an Opening laid out with all the Decorations of Art; a spacious Theatre; the Area floated by a Canal, and peopled with Swans and Wild-ducks: Her late Majesty is the principal Figure in the Scene, and around her a merry Company of Nymphs and Swains enjoying themselves in the Shade.

_Polypth._ I must confess I cannot very much admire----

_Calloph._ Come; none of your Cavils.--Observe how this View is beautifully contrasted by one on the opposite Side of a different kind; in which we are almost solely obliged to Nature. You must know I look upon this as a very noble Prospect! The Field is formed by that Semi-circle of Trees into a very grand Theatre. The Point of Sight is centred in a beautiful manner by the Pyramid, which appears to great Advantage amongst those venerable Oaks: Two or three other Buildings, half hid amongst the Trees, come in for their Share in the Prospect, and add much to the Beauty of it.

_Polypth._ I agree with you entirely; nor do I think this other View inferior to it. That Variety of different Shades amongst the Trees; the Lake spread so elegantly amongst them, and glittering here and there thro' the Bushes, with the Temple of _Venus_ as a Termination to the View, make up a very beautiful Landskip.

_Calloph._ Here is a Vista likewise very happily terminated by the Canal, and the Obelisk rising in the Midst of it. There is another close View likewise towards _Nelson_'s Seat.

_Polypth._ Upon my Word, we have a Variety of very elegant Prospects centred in this Point. I could sit here very agreeably a little longer.

_Calloph._ Nay, if you are inclined to rest, come along with me: I'll carry you to where you may indulge your Humour with great Propriety. Deep in the Retirement of that Wood, the God of Sleep has reared his Habitation, where he will afford you every Convenience to make a Nap agreeable----It comes into my Head that I forgot to carry you to a little Place, which it is hardly worth while to travel back to from this Distance: It is called _St. Austin_'s Cave, and answers its Title very well; it appears quite Cell-like, stands retired, and is made of no other Materials but Roots and Moss. In the Inside a Straw Couch offers you an hard Seat, and the Walls three humorous Inscriptions, in Monkish Verse. You may buy them, bound up with Copies of all the other Inscriptions, in a Six-penny Pamphlet, that will be offered us at the Inn.----There, Sir, is the Temple of Sleep.

_Polypth._ Why really I must confess _Ovid_ himself could scarce have buried the senseless God in an happier Retirement. This gloomy Darkness, these easy Couches, and that excellent _Epicurean_ Argument above the Door, would incline me wonderfully to indulge a little, if these beautiful Ornaments did not keep my Attention awake. There is wanting too a purling Stream, to sing a Requiem to the Senses; tho' the Want is in some measure made up by the drowsy Lullibies of that murmuring Swarm, which this Shade has invited to wanton beneath it. You would laugh at me, or I should certainly throw myself down upon one of these Couches; I am persuaded I should need no Opium to close my Eyes.

_Calloph._ I own sleeping is a Compliment as much due to this Place, as Admiration and Attention are to _Raphael_ at _Hampton-Court_. But try if your Curiosity cannot keep you awake. Come, leave these drowsy Abodes, they are infectious; like luscious Food they will blunt your Appetite before the Entertainment is half over. Walk down that Alley, and pop your Head into the first Door you come to.

_Polypth._ What the D----l have we got here? What wretched Scrawler has been at work upon these Walls?

_Calloph._ I assure you, Sir, I look upon this as a very great Master-piece. You must know this House is inhabited by a Necromancer; and that Inscription lets you see the Hand that has been employed to paint it. The Composition, Drawing, and Pencilling, I can allow you, are not the most elegant; yet if the Design and Figures are the Artist's own, I can assure you he has shewn excellent Humour, and an exceeding good Invention. That Consultation is well imagined; and so are these Witches and Wizards; their Employments likewise, their Forms and Attitudes are well varied.---- But I see this is a Scene not suited to your Taste: Our next, I hope, will please you better.

_Polypth._ Pray, what Building is that before us? I cannot say I dislike the Taste it is designed in. It seems an Antique.

_Calloph._ It is the Temple, Sir, of Ancient Virtue; the Place I am now conducting you to. You will meet within it a very illustrious Assembly of great Men; the wisest Lawgiver, the best Philosopher, the most divine Poet, and the most able Captain, that perhaps ever lived.

_Polypth._ You may possibly, Sir, engage yourself in a Dispute, by fixing your Epithets in such an absolute manner; there are so many Competitors in each of these Ways, that altho' Numbers may be called truly eminent, it will be a difficult matter to fix Pre-eminence upon any.

_Calloph._ You will hardly, I fancy, dissent from me, when I introduce you to these great Heroes of Antiquity: There stands _Lycurgus_; there _Socrates_; there _Homer_; and there _Epaminondas_. Illustrious Chiefs, who made Virtue their only Pursuit, and the Welfare of Mankind their only Study; in whose Breasts mean Self-interest had no Possession. To establish a well-regulated Constitution; to dictate the soundest Morality, to place Virtue in the most amiable Light; and bravely to defend a People's Liberty, were Ends which neither the Difficulty in overcoming the Prejudices, and taming the savage Manners of a barbarous State; the Corruptions of a licentious Age, and the Ill-usage of an invidious City; neither the vast Pains of searching into Nature, and laying up a Stock of Knowledge sufficient to produce the noblest Work of Art; nor popular Tumults at Home, and the most threatening Dangers Abroad, could ever tempt them to lose Sight of, or in the least abate that Ardency of Temper with which they pursued them.

_Polypth._ A noble Panegyric upon my Word! why, Sir, these great Spirits have inspired you with the very Soul of Oratory. However, in earnest, I confess your Encomium is pretty just; and I am apt to believe that if any of those worthy Gentlemen should take it into his Head to walk from his Nitch, it would puzzle the World to find his Equal to fix in his Room.----That old Ruin, I suppose, is intended to contrast with this new Building.

_Calloph._ Yes, Sir, it is intended to contrast with it not only in the Landskip, but likewise in its Name and Design. Walk a little nearer, and you will see its Intention.

_Polypth._ I can see nothing here to let me into its Design, except this old Gentleman; neither can I find any thing extraordinary in him, except that he has met with a Fate that he is entirely deserving of, which is more than falls to the Share of every worthless Fellow.

_Calloph._ Have you observed how the Statue is decorated?

_Polypth._ O! I see the whole Design: A very elegant Piece of Satyr, upon my Word! This pompous Edifice is intended, I suppose, to represent the flourishing Condition, in which ancient Virtue still exists; and those poor shattered Remains of what has never been very beautiful (notwithstanding, I see, they are placed within a few Yards of a Parish-church) are designed to let us see the ruinous State of decayed modern Virtue. And the Moral is, that Glory founded upon true Worth and Honour, will exist, when Fame, built upon Conquest and popular Applause, will fade away. This is really the best thing I have seen: I am most prodigiously taken with it.

_Calloph._ I intend next to carry you to a Scene of another kind. I am going to shew you the Grotto, a Place generally very taking with Strangers.----I thought that Piece of Satyr would catch your Attention: I hope likewise you will be as well pleased here. This Gate will carry us into the romantic Retirement. What do you think of this Scene?