410 
LANDSCAPE GARDENING. 
It is in this particular that the power of the painter exceeds so much 
that of the gardener ; the former has every hue and every combination 
of hues on his palette* and can apply them so as to produce a finely- 
balanced picture ; he can qualify his strong light, and show forms in 
the deepest shade; he can admit a sunbeam on a far distant object, and 
cover his foreground or middle distance with the shadow of a dense 
cloud. Such manoeuvres belong to the practice of painting, and, when 
artfully executed, the most pleasing and valuable works are produced. 
The gardener’s province is much more circumscribed; he must take 
the general surface and natural features of the place as he finds them, 
add or take away where he can, and, after doing as much as is fairly 
practicable and judicious, it may happen that he is told by one of the 
wise ones, that his ability as an improver is only negative —that is, the 
best parts of the design are those on which he has done nothing! The 
great Brown himself, or rather his memory, has suffered by a lash of 
this kind, as the finest feature (a hanging wood opposite the house) of 
his great work (Blenheim) is that which he left untouched. On his 
behalf it may be replied, that, seeing nothing could be done to improve 
it, he left it alone; but this excuse does not seem to have occurred to 
his opponents. 
Besides the form and colour of objects, whether natural or artificial, 
they have another property which makes them more or less attractive 
to the eye; that is, the character of their surfaces, whether rough or 
smooth. Bugged or shaggy surfaces are less inviting to the eye (though 
their rigidity is only known by the touch) than those which are smooth. 
The native diamond is less lustrous and engaging than the brilliant ; 
the hostile black-thorn is more repulsive than the myrtle—the hedge¬ 
hog than the kitten. All objects, therefore, that enter into landscape 
are more or less pleasing according as they are more or less smooth, or 
which have their surfaces composed of parts so uniform in size that the 
idea of smoothness is conveyed. Softness, which also can be judged of 
by an experienced eye, is nearly allied to smoothness in scenery, and 
without them there can be no absolute beauty. Their counterparts, as 
ruggedness, harshness, and hardness, are all of a picturesque character; 
but the former are enhanced in value by a due intermixture of the 
latter. A beautiful face, adorned with ringlets of flowing hair, is more 
captivating than if the head were bald, and no ornament substituted! 
so finely undulating ground receives additional beauty when partially 
clothed with trees and shrubs. 
The finest scenes are, therefore, those in which smooth softness is 
varied by the irregular forms of arborescent vegetation, or where the 
same serves to partially conceal the rugged forms of rocks, or the deep 
chasms of a mountain stream. 
