224 THE PRAISE OF GARDENS 



sand, the place may claim some portion of merit. The walks 

 and alleys have all the stiffness and formality which our ancestors 

 admired, but the intermediate spaces, being dotted with clumps 

 and sprinkled with flowers, are imagined in Holland to be in 

 the English style. An Englishman ought certainly to behold 

 it with partial eyes, since every possible attempt has been made 

 to twist it into the taste of his country. 



I need not say how liberally I bestowed my encomiums on 

 Count Bentinck's tasteful inventions ; nor how happy I was, 

 when I had duly serpentized over his garden, to find myself once 

 more in the grand avenue. 



All the way home, I reflected upon the unyielding perseverance 

 of the Dutch, who raise gardens from heaps of sand, and cities 

 out of the bosom of the waters. — Italy^ Spain, and Portugal. 

 {Letter II. Ostend, ft me 21, 1780.) 



Having remained some time in this pious hue, I returned home 

 and feasted upon grapes and ortolans with great edification ; then 

 walked to one of the bridges across the Arno, and from thence 

 to the garden of Boboli, which lies behind the Grand Duke's 

 palace, stretched out on the side of a mountain. I ascended 

 terrace after terrace, robed by a thick underwood of bay and 

 myrtle, above which rise several nodding towers, and a long 

 sweep of venerable wall, almost entirely concealed by ivy. You 

 would have been enraptured with the broad masses of shade 

 and dusky alleys that opened as I advanced, with white statues 

 of fauns and sylvans glimmering amongst them : some of which 

 pour water into sarcophagi of the purest marble, covered with 

 antique rilievos. The capitals of columns and ancient friezes 

 are scattered about as seats. 



On these I reposed myself, and looked up to the cypress groves 

 which spring above the thickets ; then, plunging into their retire- 

 ments, I followed a winding path, which led me by a series of 

 steep ascents to a green platform overlooking the whole extent 

 of wood, with Florence deep beneath, and the tops of the hills 

 which encircle it jagged with pines ; here and there a convent, 



