determinate and compassed outlines, which, indeed, on a small scale, are already found in many of the spontaneous productions of Nature herself; but which on a more extended plan, are only displayed in the works of art. I say, more pleasures to the mind or eye; for the portion of the garden here alluded to, no less than the one before mentioned professes itself to be a piece of ground wrested from Nature’s dominion by the hand of man, for purposes to which Nature alone was inadequate; and thence contending that there is the least necessity or propriety in rendering this district, appropriated by art, a fac-simile of pure Nature, independent of any consideration of superior beauty which this imitation may offer to the eye or mind, and merely because, to form a garden, we use materials supplied by Nature—such as air, water, earth, and vegetables, would be absurd in the extreme. As well might we contend, that every house, built of stone should resemble a cavern, and every coat made of wool, a sheepskin. Every production of human industry whatsoever, must, if we trace it to its origin, arise out of one or more definite ingredients of pure nature; and unless, therefore, by the same rule, every production of human industry whatsoever be obliged everlastingly to continue wearing the less regular forms of those peculiar objects of nature, out of which it is wrought, we cannot with more justice arraign gardens in their capacity as aggregates of mere natural substances and productions, for assuming the artificial forms of a terrace or a _jet-d’eau_, an avenue or a _quincunx_, than we can condemn opera-dancers and figurantes, in their capacity of compounds of natural limbs and features, for exhibiting the artificial movements of the minuet and the gavot, the entrechat and the pas-grave. If, then, the strict resemblance to the desultory forms of rude nature be not indispensably requisite in the artificial scenery of pleasure-grounds, on account of any invariable reasons of propriety or consistency, inherent in the very essence of such grounds, this resemblance of studious art to wild nature, in the gardens that adorn our habitations, can only be more eligible on account of some superior pleasure which it gives the eye and mind, either in consequence of certain general circumstances connected with the very nature of all imitation, or only in consequence of certain more restricted effects, solely and exclusively produced by this peculiar species of imitation; namely, of natural landscapes through artificial grounds.