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metry in works of art is, however, not confined to \tsbeauty, 

 but in part arises from the evidence which it affords of an 

 uniform and extensive plan having been conceived and 

 executed, and in part from that satisfaction which \ve take 

 in the perception of resemblances, as well in outward objects 

 as in the efforts of wit and imagination. It was probably 

 the latter feeling (combined, however, with an excessive 

 attempt to imitate in the garden the forms of architecture) 

 which gave rise to the style of gardening described by Pope, 

 in which 



' Grove noils at grove, eaeh alley has its brother, 

 Ami half the platform just rellects the ttOtn'fSfiil. 4.) 



This formal style of gardening was founded on a just sen- 

 timent of what is suited to the immediate neighbourhood 

 of a house, both in respect of the comfort of the inhabitants 

 and the agreement with architectural forms ; but in clipping 

 shrubs into unnatural and fantastic shapes, and in laying 

 out the ground in over-minute and complicated patterns, it 

 sometimes carried a just principle to a vicious excess. (See 

 Walpole's history of the modern taste in gardening in his 

 Anecdotes of Painting; and Whately On Gardening, 

 }. 13947.) 



The garden, in fact, forms the transition from the forms 

 of architecture to those of landscape, and is a sort of middle 

 term by which the hard, angular, and precise forms of art 

 are melted into the (lowing, irregular, and infinitely varied 

 outlines of nature. Hence the quantity and character of 

 the ornament in a garden ought to depend on the style of 

 the building to which it belongs : and thus a richly deco^ 

 rated garden would not harmonize with a perfectly plain 

 house ; and, on the other hand, a large building loaded with 

 architectural ornament seems to require something more 

 than a few shrubs, planted irregularly around it, which 

 scarcely differ in character from the neighbouring country. 

 It is on this principle that small cottages and houses, which 

 make no pretension to architectural beauty, are much im- 

 proved by the growth of creepers and other plants upon 

 their walls, which, as it were, makes them a part of the 

 surrounding vegetation. On the other hand, in buildings 

 which, from their imposing size and elaborate execution, 

 have an independent character of their own, creepers usually 

 suggest a notion of discomfort and neglect, a feeling which 

 has no place if the building is not inhabited by man, and 

 which, therefore, is not awakened by the sight of an antient 

 mouldering ruin overgrown with ivy. (See Price On the Pic- 

 Inn-xiiiii; vol. i- p. 287, vol. ii. pp. 134, 170, 177, 218; Lord 

 Aberdeen On Grecian Architecture, p. 45.) 



The perception of fitness or congruity appears to us to 

 mt for the beauty of form in nearly all cases, and occa- 

 sionally for the beauty of colour : there are, however, other 

 circumstances which contribute to produce or heighten that 

 feeling, or are conditions necessary to its existence. Such, 

 fir example, is the beauty of expression in the human coun- 

 tenance when the notion conveyed to the mind is that of 

 benevolence, cheerfulness, tranquillity, innocence, simplicity, 

 or affection. (See Bacon's Essay on Beauty.) The dis- 

 tinctness and rapidity with which the eyes express the emo- 

 of the mind contribute very powerfully to their beauty. 

 Novelly likewise is, to a certain extent, essential to the 

 perception of beauty ; and as the most beautiful object 

 1, by its continual presence, soon pall upon the sight, 

 an'd produce complete indilTerence, so objects, whoso beauty 

 will not bear close examination, and is only calculated to 

 pii.-;i-c for a time, are agreeable merely from their novelty 

 nnd freshness. This is the case to a great extent with 

 fashions in dress, which are continually changing, and in 

 which the newest fashion often seems the most beautiful, 

 although it may have no other recommendation than its 

 novelty. It does not, however, seem to us satisfactory to 

 explain the beauty of modes of dress by saying, that 'while 

 they were in fashion they were the forms and colours which 

 distinguished the rich and the noble, the eminent, the 

 envied, the observed in society ; they were the forms and the 

 colours in which all that was beautiful, and admired, and ex- 

 alted, were habitually arrayed. They were associated there- 

 fore with ideas of opulence, and elegance, and gaiety, and 

 all that is captivating and bewitching in manners, fortune, 

 nnd situation, and derived the whole of their beauty from 

 association^.' (Encycl. Britan., aut. 'Beauty,' Suppl. 

 vol ii. p. 186.) For, in the first place, there is always a cer- 

 tain regard to utility in all kinds of dress and ornament for 

 the person : colours are selected with reference to the colour 

 of the complexion or hair, different dresses become the 



young and old, &c. ; and those forms arc usually chosen 

 which, if not the most adapted to the motion of the limbs 

 and the display of the natural beauties, are at least con- 

 sistent with them. (Sec Hogarth's Analysis of Beauty, 

 c. 6, ad fin.) Caprice or bad taste may sometimes introduce 

 such fashions as hair-powder, pomatum, and hoops, and 

 habit may reconcile the eye to such monstrous disguises ; 

 but it seems incredible that any person should maintain 

 that modes of dress are in themselves indifferent, and that 

 the powdered and plastered hair and stiff hoop of an 

 English or French lady of the eighteenth century are in- 

 trinsically as beautiful as the loose and flowing locks and 

 graceful drapery of a Grecian statue. New modes of dress 

 are worn, not because they arc beautiful, but because they 

 are fashionable. Ladies not uni'requently lament that the 

 new fashion is ugly and unbecoming, though they abandon 

 the old fashion as being obsolete. Brilliant colours, more- 

 over, are almost universally considered beautiful for dress, 

 especially for female dress ; and therefore they are worn by 

 the rich, who can afford a frequent succession of clothes : 

 the poor, who cannot, are consequently forced to clothe 

 themselves in dark and dingy colours, .which are not so soon 

 soiled and spoilt. So likewise fine, soft, and smooth textures 

 are not only more convenient, but more beautiful for 

 clothing, as being better fitted to show the form of the body : 

 in this respect the taste of all ages has agreed, from the 

 Romans, who admired the cobweb garments, the textilu 

 aura, which they imported from the East, and who bartered 

 gold for an equal weight of silk, down to the modern pur- 

 chasers of the delicate fabrics of Paisle/and Lyons: and 

 hence the rich clothe themselves in fine linen and woollen, 

 in silk, in velvet, and in lace; while the poor, unable to 

 purchase such luxuries, content themselves with coarser 

 and thicker textures. Mr. Alison, therefore, in the following 

 remarks, completely inverts the cause and the effect. ' The 

 colours (he says) which distinguish the ordinary dress of 

 the common people are never considered as beautiful. It is 

 the colours only of the dress of the great, of the opulent, 

 or of distinguished professions, which are ever considered 

 in this light. The colours of common furniture, in the 

 same way, are never beautiful ; it is the colours only of 

 fashionable, or costly, or magnificent furniture, which are 

 ever considered as such.' (Alison On Taste, vol. i. p. 3.0'J.) 

 In fact, however, the dress of tho rich is not beautiful be- 

 cause it is the dress of the rich, but it is the dress of the 

 rich because it is beautiful : costly furniture is not beautiful 

 because it is costly, but it is costly because it is beautiful. 

 The dress of tho poor is not plain because it is the dress of 

 the poor, but it is the dress of the poor because it is plain. 

 In countries where the peasants ornament their dress with 

 taste and fancy, as in some cantons of Switzerland, their 

 dress is thought beautiful ; in countries, as in antient Ve- 

 nice, where the upper orders wore black clothes, black might 

 have been considered a mark of nobility and rank, but 

 could scarcely, even by the natives, have been considered 

 as beautiful : nor in this country does any one think a bar- 

 rister's wig and gown, or a clergyman's surplice, as having 

 any title to be called beautiful because they are the dress of 

 distinguished professions. (See Alison, vol. i. p. 107 ; Edin- 

 burgh Review, vol. vii. p. 293.) 



Variety, likewise, is a condition of the beauty of colour 

 nearly allied to novelty. Combinations of colours, if they 

 are not so mixed as to be confused, and if their tints har- 

 monize well together, are for the most part agreeable to the 

 eye: while large and unbroken masses of an uniform hue, 

 such as long flat walls, wide expanses of sand or water, or 

 green plain, are devoid of beauty. The beauty of the hu- 

 man hair arises, in great measure, from the irregularity of 

 its movements, its flexibility and variety of outline, and the 

 changeability of its tint, as its glossy surface reflects the 

 light in different parts : while a bald head is not only de- 

 prived of this ornament, but also seems to be shorn of its 

 fair proportions, and to want something which belongs to its 

 integrity. 



The most remarkable exception to the ugliness of uniform 

 colours is the beauty of the blue sky and the blue sea ; in 

 which cases the sensual delight derived from the soft and 

 at the same time brilliant colouring appears to compensate 

 for its want of variety. For when the sky and sea are of a 

 grey and dingy hue their beauty is gone, and we are then 

 conscious of the monotonous effect produced by a large un- 

 varied surface of a dull colour. Even, however, when the 

 sea is most brilliant in its colour, how much do a few white 



