fome greater evil. A bridge, without water, is an abfurdity; and half a one stuck up as an eye-trap is a paltry trick, which, though it may ftrike the ftranger, cannot fail of difgufting when the fraud is found out.' Nearly in the fame mauner we lately reprehended a deceit of this kind; and thofe who may probably difdain to be taught by a reviewer, immured, as is fufpected, in his garret, will probably attend to obfervations of an able author, whom they may fuppofe to be more converfant with the real fcenes. In our fifty-fixth volume, p. 259, we reviewed the tranflation of the Viscount d'Ermenonville's Effay on Landscape, and there afferted, in ftrong terms, the English right to the invention of modern gardening. The French, we observed, were once the strongest opponents of this reformation, and now, when it is generally adopted, they attribute it to the Greeks, the Chinese, or any nation except the English. This illiberality, in an age fo enlightened, is the strongest proof of the weakness of the human mind; of the invincible power which a mean jealousy still enjoys, in spite of enlarged knowlege and free inquiry. In the ornamental parts of gardening, our author opposes this fpirit of our neighbours with propriety, and traces with a just discrimination the rife of this delightful art. • We have been told that the English garden is but a copy of the gardens of the Chinefe: this, however, is founded in Gallic envy rather than in truth; for though their style of gardening may not admit of tatooings and topiary works, it has as little to do with natural scenery as the garden of an ancient Roman, or a modern Frenchman:-The art of affifting nature is, undoubtedly, all our own.' Mankind have, in all ages, differed respecting the degree of art required in their ornamented gardenings; yet perhaps they have not been always wrong, though they have almost always differed. The eye is foon tired of the style of the ob jects before it, and we are sometimes tempted, in the midst of rural beauties, to cry out with the fecluded coquette, odious, odious trees!' Perhaps, in our retirements, we with for somewhat different from the face of nature; perhaps we think no pains or art employed, if our gardens are not diftinguished from the country. In the times when extenfive plantations were in many places vifible, when private property was not afcertained, or, if afcertained, fubject to depredations, we feparated our gardens, and distinguished them with an exact regularity. But, when every field was divided by a fence, when frait lines and right angles were generally the objects, and the trees fet in hedge rows, or curtailed by the careful husbandman; when they were defpoiled of their beauties, that they might not injure the crop by their fhade, we then looked to other scenes; and in this variety we have fortunately found reafons to explain, and philofophical principles to fupport our preference. The next age may fee another revolution, and a different philofophy may be brought in aid of it; but, at prefent, it will perhaps be agreeable to our readers to examine how far art may be properly introduced. We shall transcribe our author's fentiments on the subject: they want not our recommendation. Our In the lower claffes of rural improvements, art should be feen as little as may be; and in the more negligent fcenes of nature, every thing ought to appear as if it had been done by the general laws of nature, or had grown out of a series of fortuitous circumftances. But, in the higher departments, art cannot be hid; and the appearance of defign ought not to be excluded. A human production cannot be made perfectly natural; and, held out as fuch, it becomes an impofition. art lies in endeavouring to adapt the productions of nature to hu man tafte and perceptions; and, if much art be used, do not attempt to hide it. Who confiders an accomplished well-dreffed woman as in a state of nature? and who, feeing a beautiful ground adorned with wood and lawn, with water, bridges, and buildings, believes it to be a natural production ? Art feldom fails to please when executed in a masterly manner: nay, it is frequently the defign and execution, more than the production itself, that strikes us. It is the artifice, not the defign, which ought to be avoided. It is the labour, and not the-art, which ought to be concealed. A well-written poem would be read with lefs pleasure, if we knew the painful exertions it gave rife to in the compofition; and the rural artist ought, upon every occafion, to endeavour to avoid labour; or, if indifpenfibly neceffary, to conceal it. No trace fhould be left to lead back the mind to the expenfive toil. A mound raised, a mountain leveled, or a useless temple built, convey to the mind feelings equally difgufting. But though the aids of art are as effential to gardening as education is to manners; yet art may do too much: the ought to be confidered as the handmaid, not as the mistress, of nature: and whether he be employed in carving a tree into the figure of an animal, or in thaping a view into the form of a picture, fhe is equally culpable. The nature of the place is facred. Should this tend to landfcape, from fome principal point of view, assist nature, and perfect it; provided this can be done without injuring the views from other points. But do not disfigure the natural features of the place:-do not facrifice its native beauties, to the arbitrary laws of landscape painting. "Great nature fcorns controul; she will not bear One beauty foreign to the fpot or foil She She gives thee to adorn: 'tis thine alone MASON. In a picture bounded by its frame, a perfect lanfcape is looked for it is of itself a whole, and the frame must be filled. But it is not fo in ornamented nature: for, if a fide-screen be wanting, the eye is not offended with the frame, or the wainfeot; but has always fome natural and pleafing object to receive it. Suppose a room to be hung with one continued rural reprefentation, would pretty pictures be expected? would correct landscapes be looked for? Nature fcarcely knows the thing mankind call a landfcape. The landscape-painter feldom, if ever, finds it perfected it to his hands ;-fome addition or alteration is almost always wanted. Every man who has made his obfervations upon natural fcenery, knows that the misletoe of the oak occurs almost as often as a perfect natural landscape ; and to attempt to make up artificial landfcape, upon every occafion, is unnatural and abfurd.' We have paid more than usual attention to this work, because we think it in many refpects valuable; but, as we have remarked fome inaccuracies in compofition, the intelligent author will forgive us for obferving, that the language alfo is not always correct. The Principles of Moral and Political Philofophy. By William Paley, M. A. Archdeacon of Carlisle. 4to. 11. 15. Faulder. TH HE candour, the liberality, and good fenfe, which are confpicuous in every page of this important volume, deferve the greatest commendation. The writer on morality has generally divefted himself of his feelings, or, in the conduct of the human mind, has forgotten that Providence implanted defires and propenfities, not to be destroyed, but to be regulated; not to be checked, as the bane of human felicity, but to be conducted with moderation and prudence, as its best fources. We have not often perceived, in authors of this kind, an intimate acquaintance with the human heart, so necessary to unravel its intricacies, and develope its inconfiftencies: we have feldom feen, in those well verfed in this fcience, a knowlege of human life, and abilities to trace the ruling paffion, viz. a defire for happinefs, through its various mazes, and its different errors. In all thefe refpe&ts, Mr. Paley feems to be well qualified for his undertaking. The form of the work differs from that of many other systems of morality; and this we shall explain chiefly in the author's own words. In the treatifes that I have met with upon the fubject of morals, I appear to myself to have remarked the following im per perfections-either that the principle was erroneous, or that it was indistinctly explained, or that the rules deduced from it, were not fufficiently adapted to real life and to actual fituations. The writings of Grotius, and the larger work of Puffendorf, are of too forenfic a caft, too much mixed up with the civil law, and with the jurifprudence of Germany, to answer precifely the defign of a fyftem of ethics, the direction of private confciences in the general conduct of human life.' Our own writers are not free from these imputations, to which may be added, their feparating the law of nature from the precepts of revelation; and declining to mention the fcripture authorities in fupport of their other arguments. The manner is alfo fometimes liable to exception. Moral inftitutes have been delivered in detached propofitions, which are of too tranfitory a nature to fix themselves in the mind: one effaces the other, in a continued feries, velut unda undam.' The oppofite fault to this is a laboured and prolix difcuflion of elements and verbal diftinctions. The principal examples of these two kinds of writings are Dr. Ferguson's Inftitutes of Moral Philofophy, and Dr. Rutherford's of Natural Law. The fubjects of Mr. Paley's work fpeak to men's bufinefs and bofoms: they are generally interefting and important. The question is always ftated with precision; it is fairly laid down, and in its full force. For this we owe him our thanks; and, in this part, he has had few competitors. Authors frequently fear difficulties, and attempt to elude them, inftead of meeting them with an attention equal to their importance. They tremble for a name, and, to fave it, facrifice the dignity of their fubject, or the subject itself; hence they afford a temporary triumph to the fceptic or the libertine, by the weaknefs of an injudicious defence. The author apologises for mixing politics with ethics, and for not quoting authorities. That a margin, crowded with names, can give a force to truth, and a dignity to morality, those will only think, who have been converfant with the authors on the continent, or who fuppofe, that in much labour there is much learning. A precept of morality is undoubtedly to be appreciated by its intrinfic worth; for a name cannot add force to one obviously juft, or fupport another that may be trifling, or ill-founded. In natural knowlege, the importance of the obfervation is often determined by the credit of the observer; and with reafon, fince fo few are to be trufted with the ufe of their own eyes. • The next circumftance for which fome apology may be expected, is the joining of moral and political philofophy toge ther, ther, or the addition of a book of politics to a fyftem of ethics. Againft this objection, if it be made one, I might defend myfelf by the example of many approved writers, who have treated, de officiis hominis et civis, or, as fome chufe to express it, "of the rights and obligations of man, in his individual and focial capacity," in the fame book. I might alledge alfo, that the part a member of the commonwealth fhall take in political contentions, the vote he fhall give, the counfels he shall approve, the fupport he fhall afford, or the oppofition he shall nake, to any fyftem of public measures, is as much a question of perfonal duty, as much concerns the confcience of the individual, who deliberates, as the determination of any doubt which relates to the conduct of private life; that confequently political philofophy is, properly fpeaking a continuation of moral philofophy; or rather, indeed, a part of it, fuppofing moral philofophy to have for its aim, the information of the human conscience in every deliberation that is likely to come before it. I might avail myfelf of thefe excufes, if I wanted them; but the vindication upon which I rely, is the following. In ftating the principle of morais, the reader will obferve, that I have employed fome industry in explaining the theory, and fhewing the neceffity of general rules; without the full and conftant confideration of which, I am perfuaded that no fyftem of moral philofophy can be fatisfactory or confiftent. This foundation being laid, or rather, this habit being formed, the difcuffion of political fubjects, to which, more than almoft to any other, general rules are applicable, became clear and easy. Whereas, had thefe topics been affigned to a diftinct work, it would have been neceffary to have repeated the fame rudiments, to have eftablished over again the fame principles, as those which we had already exemplified, and rendered familiar to the reader, in the former parts of this. In a word, if there appear to any one too great a diverfity, or too wide a diftance between the fubjects treated of, in the courfe of the prefent volume, let him be reminded, that the doctrine of general rules pervades and connects the whole.' Concerning the perfonal motives which engaged me in the following attempt, it is not neceffary that I fay much; the nature of my academical fituation, a great deal of leisure fince my retirement from it, the recommendation of an honoured and excellent friend, the authority of the venerable prelate to whom thefe labours are infcribed, the not perceiving in what way I could employ my time er talents better, and my difapprobation in literary men of that faftidious indolence, which its till becaufe it difdains to do little, were the confiderations that directed my thoughts to this defign. Nor have I repented of the undertaking. Whatever be the fate or reception of this work, it owes its author nothing. In fickness and in health, I have found in it that, which can alone alleviate the one, or give enjoyment to the other-occupation and engagement.' We |