holds the axe or the plough, how much more refined on the contrary thofe of the European, whofe mind is improved by education, example, books, and by every acquired advantage! Thofe feelings, however, I will delineate as well as I can, agreeably to your earnest request. When I contemplate my wife, by my fire-fide, while the either fpins, knits, darns, or fuckles our child, I cannot defcribe the various emotions of love, of gratitude, of conscious pride which thrill in my heart, and often overflow in involuntary tears. I feel the neceffity, the fweet pleasure of acting my part, the part of an husband and father, with an intention and propriety which may entitle me to my good fortune. It is true, thefe pleafing images vanish with the fmoke of my pipe; but though they disappear from my mind, the impreffion they have made on my heart is indelible. When I play with the infant my warm imagination runs forward, and eagerly an. ticipates his future temper and conftitution. I would willingly open the book of fate, and know in which page his deftiny is delineated; alas! where is the father who, in those moments of paternal extacy, can delineate one half of the thoughts which dilate his heart? I am fure I cannot; then again I fear for the health of those who are become fo dear to me, and in their fickneffes I feverely pay for the joys I experienced while they were well. Whenever I go abroad it is always involuntary. I never return home without feeling fome pleafing emotion, which I often fupprefs as ufelefs and foolish. The inftant I enter on my own land, the bright idea of property, of exclufive right, of independence exalt my mind. Precious foil, I fay to myfelf, by what fingular cuftom of law is it that thou waft made to constitute the riches of the freeholder? What fhould we American farmers be without the diftin&t poffeffion of that foil? It feeds, it clothes us, from it we draw even a great exuberancy, our beft meat, our richest drink, the very honey of our bees comes from this privileged fpot. No wonder we fhould thus cherish its poffeffion, no wonder that fo many Europeans, who have never been able to fay that fuch portion of land was theirs, cross the Atlantic, to realize that happiness. This formerly rude foil has been converted by my father into a pleasant farm, and in return it has established all our rights; on it is founded our rank, our freedom, our power as citizens, our importance as inhabitants of fuch a district. Thefe images, I muft confefs, I always behold with pleafure, and extend them as far as my imagination can reach: for this is what may be called the true and the only philofophy of an American farmer. Pray do not laugh in thus feeing an artlefs countryman tracing himself through the fimple modifications of his life; remember that you have required it, therefore with candour, though with diffidence, I endeavour to follow the thread of my feelings, but I cannot tell you all. Often when I plough my low ground, I place my little boy on a chair which fcrews to the beam of the plough-its motion and that of the horfes please him; he is perfectly happy, and begins to chat. As I lean over the handle, various are the thoughts which croud into my mind. I am now doing for him, I fay, what my father formerly did for me, may God enable him to live, that he may perform the fame operations for the fame purposes when I am worn out and old! I relieve his mother of fome trouble while I have him with me, the odoriferous furrow

exhilarates

exhilarates his fpirits, and feems to do the child a great deal of good, for he looks more blooming fince I have adopted that practice; can more pleasure, more dignity be added to that primary occupation? The father thus ploughing with his child, and to feed his family, is inferior only to the Emperor of China ploughing as an example to his kingdom.'

With what heart-felt regret muft our honeft Pennfylvanian look back to thefe happy moments of his existence, when the innocence, the fimplicity, and the rational employments of his life could only have been equalled in the primitive ages of mankind!

Aureus hanc vitam in terris Saturnus agebat.

Necdum etiam audierant inflari claffica, necdum
Impofitos duris crepitare incudibus enfes

Sed nos immenfum fpatiis confecimus æquor.
[To be continued. ]

ART. II. The English Garden: a Poem. In Four Books. Book IV. By W. Maton, M. A. 4to. 2s. 6d. Dodley. 1781..

HE firft Book of this elegant Poem made its appearance

TH

in the year 1772, of which the Reader will find a very ample account in the forty-fixth volume of our Journal, p. 219. Of the fecond and third Books no other notice was taken at the time of their publication, than barely to announce them; as we waited for the completion of the Writer's plan, that the whole might be included in one general critique. The Poem being now brought to a conclufion, it is with pleasure we refume the confideration of it.

Perhaps we cannot give the Reader a jufter idea of the plan and conduct of this pleafing performance, than in the words of Mr. Mason's own analysis of it, as it is sketched out in his General Poftfcript. < The firft Book,' fays he, contains the general Principles of the Art, which are fhewn to be no other than thofe which conftitute Beauty in the fifter art of Landscape Painting; Beauty which refults from a wellchofen variety of curves; in contradiftinction to that of Architecture, which arifes from a judicious fymmetry of right lines, and which is there fhewn to have afforded the principle on which that formal difpofition of Garden Ground, which our anceftors borrowed from the French and Dutch, proceeded. A principle never adopted by Nature herfelf, and therefore conftantly to be avoided by thofe whofe bufinefs it is to embellish Nature.'

The fecond Book proceeds to a more practical difcuffion of the fubject, but confines itfelf to one point only, the difpofition of the ground-plan, and, that very material bufinefs immediately united. with it, the proper difpofition and formation of the paths and fences. The neceffity of attending conftantly to the curvilinear principle is

Dd 3

firft fhewn, not only in the formation of the ground-plan with refpect to its external boundary, but in its internal fwellings and finkings, where all abruptnefs or angular appearances are as much to be avoided as in the form of the outline that surrounds the whole.

The pathways or walks are next confidered, and that peculiar curve recommended for their imitation which is fo frequently found in common roads, foot-paths, &c. and which being cafually produced appears to be the general curve of Nature.

The rest of the book is employed in minutely defcribing the me thod of making funk fences, and other neceffary divifions of the pleasure-ground or lawn from the adjacent field or park; a part of the art which is of moft effential confequence, and which is frequently very difficult both to defign and execute.'

This Book clofes with the appofite ftory of Abdalominus, who was found working in his garden when Alexander came to impose upon, or rather, to reftore to him, the crown of Sidon.

The third Book proceeds to add natural ornament to that groundplan which the fecond Book had ascertained, in its two capital branches, Wood and Water.'

• Factitious or artificial ornaments, in contradiflinction to natural ones laft treated, form the general fubject of the fourth Book, and conclude the plan. By thefe is meant not only every aid which the art borrows from architecture; but those smaller pieces of feparate fcenery appropriated either to ornament or ufe, which do not make a neceffary part of the whole; and which, if admitted into it, would frequently occafion a littlenefs ill fuiting with that unity and fimplicity which fhould ever be principally attended to in an extentive pleasure-ground.'

Apprehenfive that defcriptive poetry, however varied, might pall when continued through fo long a poem, Mr. Mafon has contrived to interweave a tale with the general theme.' The idea, says he, was new, and I found the execution of it fomewhat difficult.' In justice, however, to the Poet's art, it must be acknowledged, his fuccefs has been more than equal to the difficulty of the attempt. This interefting story is thus introduced:

But precep's tire, and this faftidious age
Rejects the ftrain didactic: Try we then
In livelier Narrative the truths to veil
We dare not di&tate. 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:
Nor hence refufe (what moft augments the charm
Of ftcried woe) that fond credulity

Which binds th' attentive soul in closer chains.'

Paffing over the introductory defcription of Alcander's domain, and its fituation on the coaft, proceed we to the commencement of this affecting, though romantic and improbable parrative, so full of ftrange event and piteous circumftance.'

Оле

• One vernal morn, as urging here the work
Surrounded by his hinds, from mild to cold
The feafon chang'd, from cold to fudden ftorm,
From ftorm to whirlwind. To the angry main
Swiftly he turns, and fees a laden fhip
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 veffel dafh its poop
Amid the boiling breakers. Need I tell

1

What ftrenuous arts were us'd, when all were us'd,
To fave the finking Crew? One tender Maid
Alone escap'd, fav'd by ALCANDER's arm,
Who boldly fwam to fnatch her from the plank
To which the feebly clung; fwiftly to fhore,
And fwifter to his home, the youth convey'd
His clay-cold prize, who at his portal firft
By one deep figh a fign of Life betray'd,
A Maid fo fav'd, if but by Nature bleft
With common charms, had foon awak'd a flame
More ftrong than Pity, in that melting heart
Which Pity warm'd before. But he was fair
As Poets picture Hebe, or the Spring;
Graceful withal, as if each limb were caft
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 fhe, (ah, ftrange to tell) tho' much he lov'd,
Suppreft as much that fympathetic flame
Which Love like his fhould kindle: Did he kneel
In rapture at her feet? the bow'd the head,
And coldly bad him rife; or did he plead,
In terms of pureft paffion, for a smile?

She
gave him but a tear: his manly form,
His virtues, ev's the courage that preferv'd
Her life, befeem'd no fentiment to wake
Warmer than gratitude; and yet the love
Withheld from him the freely gave his fcenes;
On all their charms a just applause bestow'd;
And, if she e'er was happy, only then

When wand'ring where thofe charms were most display'd.
As thro' a neighb'ring Grove, where ancient beech

Their awful foliage flung, ALCANDER led

The penfive Maid along, "Tell me," the cry'd,

* Alluding to a letter of that famous painter, written to his friend Count Baltafer Caftiglione, when he was painting his celebrated picture of Galatea, in which he tells him, "effendo careftia di belle donne, io mi fervo di certa idea che viene alla mente." See Bellori Diferix. delle imagini dipinte da Raffaello d'Urbino, or the Life of B. Caftiglione, prefixed to the London edition of his book entitled, I Cortegiano.

Dd 4

"Why

"Why, on these forest features all-intent,
"Forbears my friend fome scene diftinct to give
"To Flora and her fragrance? Well I know
"That in the general Landscape's broad expanfe
"Their little blooms are loft; but here are glades,
"Circled with fhade, yet pervious to the fun,
"Where, if enamell'd with their rainbow-hues,
"The eye would catch their splendor: turn thy Tafte,
"Ev'n in this graffy circle where we stand,

"To form their plots; there weave a woodbine Bower,
"And call that Bower NERINA's." At the word

ALCANDER fmil'd; his fancy inftant form'd

The fragrant fcene the wish'd; and Love, with Art
Uniting, foon produc'd the finish'd whole.

Down to the South the glade by Nature lean'd;
Art form'd the flope fill forcer, opening there
Its foliage, and to each Etefian gale

Admittance free difpenfing; thicket fade
Guarded the reft. His taite will bett conceive
The new arrangement, whofe free footsteps, us'd
To foreft haunts, have pierc'd their opening dells,
Where frequent tufts of fweetbriar, box or thorn,
Steal on the green fward, but admit fair space
For many a moffy maze to wind between.
Sa here did Art arrange her flow'ry groups
Irregular, yet not in patches quaint *,
But interpos'd between the wand'ring lines
Of fhaven turf which twifted to the path,
Gravel or fand, that in as wild a wave
Stole round the verdant limits of the scene;
Leading the eye to many a fculptur'd buit
On fhapely pedeftal, of Sage or Bard,

Bright heirs of fame, who living lov'd the haunts

So fragrant, fo fequefter'd. Many an Urn

There too had place, with votive lay infcrib'd

To Freedom, Friendship, Solitude, or Love.

And now each flow'r that bears tranfplanting change,

Or blooms indigenous, adorn'd the scene;
Only NERINA's wish, her woodbine bower,

There is nothing in picturefque Gardening which should not have its archetype in unadorned Nature. Now, as we never fee any of her plains dotted with diffevered patches of any fort of vegetables, except, perhaps, fome of her more barren heaths, where even Furze can grow but fparingly, and which form the moft difagreeable of her fcenes, therefore the prefent common mode of dotting clumps of flowers, or fhrubs on a grafs-plat, without union, and without other meaning than that of appearing irregular, ought to be avoided. It is the form and eafy flow of the graffy interftices (if I may fo call them) that the defigner ought first to have a regard to; and if these be well formed, the spaces for flowers or fhrubbery will be at the fame time afcertained.

Remain'd