A DESCRIPTION OF THE LEASOWES^*. The ſeat of the late William Shenſtone, Eſq.

THE Leaſowes is ſituate in the pariſh of Hales Owen, a ſmall market-town in the county of Salop, but ſur⯑rounded by other counties, and thirty miles from Shrewſbury, as it is near ten to the borders of Shrop⯑ſhire. Though a paternal eſtate, it was never diſtin⯑guiſhed for any peculiar beauties till the time of its late owner. It was reſerved for a perſon of his in⯑genuity both to diſcover and improve them, which he has done ſo effectually, that it is now conſidered as amongſt the principal of thoſe delightful ſcenes which perſons of taſte, in the preſent age, are deſi⯑rous to ſee. Far from violating its natural beauties, Mr. Shenſtone's only ſtudy was to give them their full effect; and although the form in which things now [xxii] appear be indeed the conſequence of much thought and labour, yet the hand of Art is no way viſible ei⯑ther in the ſhape of ground, the diſpoſition of trees, or (which are here ſo numerous and ſtriking) the ro⯑mantic fall of his caſcades.

But I will now proceed to a more particular de⯑ſcription. About half a mile ſhort of Hales Owen, in your way from Birmingham to Bewdley, you quit the great road, and turn into a green lane on the left hand, where, deſcending in a winding manner to the bottom of a deep valley finely ſhaded, the firſt ob⯑ject that occurs is a kind of ruinated wall, and a ſmall gate, within an arch, inſcribed, ‘"The Priory Gate."’ Here, it ſeems, the company ſhould proper⯑ly begin their walk, but generally chuſe to go up with their horſes or equipage to the houſe, from whence returning, they deſcend back into the val⯑ley. Paſſing through a ſmall gate at the bottom of the fine ſwelling lawn that ſurrounds the houſe, you enter upon a winding path, with a piece of water on your right. The path and water, overſhadowed with trees that grow upon the ſlopes of this narrow dingle, render the ſcene at once cool, gloomy, ſolemn, and ſequeſtered, and form ſo ſtriking a contraſt to the lively ſcene you have juſt left, that you ſeem all on a ſudden landed in a ſubterraneous kind of region. Winding forward down the valley, you paſs beſide a ſmall root-houſe, where, on a tablet, are theſe lines:

Theſe ſentiments correſpond as well as poſſible with the ideas we form of the abode of Fairies, and, appearing deep in this romantic valley, ſerve to keep alive ſuch enthuſiaſtic images while this ſort of ſcene continues.

You now paſs through The Priory Gate before mentioned, and are admitted into a part of the val⯑ley ſomewhat different from the former, tall trees, high irregular ground, and rugged ſcars. The right preſents you with, perhaps, the moſt natural, if not the moſt ſtriking, of the many caſcades here found; [xxiv] the left with a ſloping grove of oaks; and the centre with a pretty circular landſcape appearing through the trees, of which Hales Owen ſteeple, and other objects at a diſtance, form an intereſting part. The ſeat beneath the ruinated wall has theſe lines of Vir⯑gil inſcribed, ſuiting well with the general tenour of Mr. Shenſtone's late ſituation:

You now proceed a few paces down the valley to another bench, where you have this caſcade in front, which, together with the internal arch and other appendages, make a pretty irregular picture. I muſt obſerve, once for all, that a number of theſe protem⯑pore benches (two ſtumps with a tranſverſe board) ſeem chiefly intended as hints to ſpectators, leſt in paſſing curſorily through the farm they might ſuffer any of that immenſe variety the place furniſhes to eſcape their notice. The ſtream attending us, with its agreeable murmurs, as we deſcend along this pleaſing valley, we come next to a ſmall ſeat, where we have a ſloping grove upon the right, and on the left a ſtriking viſta to the ſteeple of Hales Owen, [xxv] which is here ſeen in a new light. We now deſcend farther down this ſhady and ſequeſtered valley, ac⯑companied on the right by the ſame brawling rivulet running over pebbles, till it empties itſelf into a fine piece of water at the bottom. The path here wind⯑ing to the left conforms to the water before men⯑tioned, running round the foot of a ſmall hill, and accompanying this ſemicircular lake into another winding valley, ſomewhat more open, and not leſs pleaſing, than the former: however, before we enter this, it will be proper to mention a ſeat about the centre of this water-ſcene, where the ends of it are loſt in the two vallies on each ſide, and in front it is inviſibly connected with another piece of water, of about twenty acres, open to Mr. Shenſtone, but not his property. This laſt was a performance of the monks, and part of a prodigious chain of fiſh-ponds that belonged to Hales Abbey. The back ground of this ſcene is very beautiful, and exhibits a picture of villages and varied ground finely held up to the eye.

I ſpeak of all this as already finiſhed, but through ſome misfortune in the mound that pounds up the water it is not completed.

We now leave The Priory upon the left, which is not meant for an object here, and wind along into the other valley: and here I cannot but take notice of the judgment which formed this piece of water; for although it be not very large, yet, as it is formed [xxvi] by the concurrence of three vallies, in which two of the ends are hid, and in the third it ſeems to join with the large extent of water below, it is, to all ap⯑pearance, unbounded. I muſt confeſs I never ſaw a more natural bed for water, or any kind of lake that pleaſed me better; but it may be right to mention, that this water, in its full extent, has a yet more im⯑portant effect from Mr. Shenſtone's houſe, where it is ſeen to a great advantage. We now, by a pleaſing ſerpentine walk, enter a narrow glade in the valley, the ſlopes on each ſide finely covered with oaks and beeches, on the left of which is a common bench, which affords a retiring place ſecluded from every eye, and a ſhort reſpite, during which the eye repoſes on a fine amphitheatre of wood and thicket.

We now proceed to a ſeat beneath a prodigiouſly fine canopy of ſpreading oak, on the back of which is this inſcription:

The picture before it is that of a beautiful home⯑ſcene; a ſmall lawn of well-varied ground, encom⯑paſſed with hills and well-grown oaks, and embel⯑liſhed with a caſt of the piping Faunus, amid trees [xxvii] and ſhrubs on a ſlope upon the left, and on the right, and nearer the eye, with an urn thus inſcribed: ‘" Ingenio et amicitiae
" Gvlielmi Somerville."’ And on the oppoſite ſide, ‘" G. S. poſvit,
" Debita ſpargens lacrima favillam
" Vatis amici^†."’ The ſcene is incloſed on all ſides by trees; in the middle only there is an opening, where the lawn is continued, and winds out of ſight.

Here entering a gate, you are led through a thic⯑ket of many ſorts of willows, into a large root-houſe, inſcribed to the Right Honourable the Earl of Stam⯑ford. It ſeems that worthy peer was preſent at the firſt opening of the caſcade, which is the principal object from the root-houſe, where the eye is preſent⯑ed with a fairy viſion, conſiſting of an irregular and romantic fall of water, very unuſual, one hundred and fifty yards in continuity; and a very ſtriking ſcene it affords. Other caſcades may poſſibly have the advantage of a greater deſcent and a larger tor⯑rent; but a more wild and romantic appearance of water, and at the ſame time ſtrictly natural, is what [xxviii] I never ſaw in any place whatever. This ſcene, tho' comparatively ſmall, is yet aggrandized with ſo much art, that we forget the quantity of water which flows through this cloſe and overſhaded valley, and are ſo much tranſported with the intricacy of ſcene, and the concealed height from whence it flows, that we, without reflection, add the idea of magnificence to that of beauty. In ſhort, it is not but upon reflec⯑tion that we find the ſtream is not a Niagara, but rather a water-fall in miniature; and that the ſame artifice, upon a larger ſcale, were there large trees inſtead of ſmall ones, and a river inſtead of a rill, would be capable of forming a ſcene that would ex⯑ceed the utmoſt of our ideas. But I will not dwell longer upon this inimitable ſcene; thoſe who would admire it properly muſt view it, as ſurely as thoſe that view it muſt admire it beyond almoſt any thing they ever ſaw.

Proceeding on the right-hand path, the next ſeat affords a ſcene of what Mr. Shenſtone uſed to call his Foreſt ground, conſiſting of wild green ſlopes peeping through dingle, or irregular groupes of trees, a con⯑fuſed mixture of ſavage and cultivated ground, held up to the eye, and forming a landſcape fit for the pencil of Salvator Roſa.

Winding on beſide this lawn, which is over-arch⯑ed with ſpreading trees, the eye catches, at intervals, over an intermediate hill, the ſpire of Hales church, [xxix] forming here a perfect obeliſk—the urn to Mr. So⯑merville, &c.; and now paſſing through a kind of thicket, we arrive at a natural bower of almoſt cir⯑cular oaks, inſcribed in the manner following:

On the bank above it, amid the fore-mentioned ſhrubs, is a ſtatue of the piping Faun, which not on⯑ly embelliſhes this ſcene, but is alſo ſeen from the court before the houſe, and from other places: it is ſurrounded by venerable oaks, and very happily ſi⯑tuated. From this bower alſo you look down upon the fore-mentioned irregular ground, ſhut up with trees on all ſides, except ſome few openings to the more pleaſing parts of this groteſque and hilly coun⯑try. The next little bench affords the firſt, but not moſt ſtriking, view of The Priory. It is indeed a ſmall building, but ſeen as it is beneath trees, and its extre⯑mity alſo hid by the ſame, it has in ſome ſort the dig⯑nity and ſolemn appearance of a larger edifice.

Paſſing through a gate, we enter a ſmall open grove, where the firſt ſeat we find affords a pictureſque view, through trees, of a clump of oaks at a diſtance, over⯑ſhadowing a little cottage upon a green hill: we thence immediately enter a perfect dome or circular temple of magnificent beeches, in the centre of which it was [xxx] intended to place an antique altar, or a ſtatue of Pan. The path ſerpentizing through this open grove, leads us by an eaſy aſcent to a ſmall bench with this motto,

which alludes to the retired ſituation of the grove. There is alſo ſeen, through an opening to the left, a pleaſing landſcape of a diſtant hill, with a whited farm-houſe upon the ſummit; and to the right hand a beautiful round ſlope, crowned with a clump of large firs, with a pyramidal ſeat on its centre, to which, after no long walk, the path conduct us.

But we firſt come to another view of The Priory, more advantageous, and at a better diſtance, to which the eye is led down a green ſlope, through a ſcenery of tall oaks, in a moſt agreeable manner, the grove we have juſt paſſed on one ſide, and a hill of trees and thicket on the other, conducting the eye to a narrow opening through which it appears.

We now aſcend to a ſmall bench, where the cir⯑cumjacent country begins to open; in particular a glaſs-houſe appears between two large clumps of trees, at about the diſtance of four miles; the glaſs-houſes in this country not ill reſembling a diſtant pyramid. [xxxi] Aſcending to the next ſeat, which is in the Gothic form, the ſcene grows more and more extended; woods and lawns, hills and vallies, thicket and plain, agreeably intermingled. On the back of this ſeat is the following inſcription, which the Author told me that he choſe to fix here, to ſupply what he thought ſome want of life in this part of the farm, and to keep up the ſpectator's attention till he came to ſcale the hill beyond.

INSCRIPTION.

And now, paſſing through a wicket, the path winds up the back part of a circular green hill, diſcovering little of the country till you enter a clump of ſtately firs upon the ſummit. Over-arched by theſe firs is an octagonal ſeat, the back of which is ſo contrived as to form a table or pedeſtal for a bowl or goblet, thus inſcribed— ‘" To all friends round The Wrekin!"’ This facetious inſcription, being an old Shropſhire health, is a commemoration of his country friends, [xxxiii] from which this part of Shropſhire is divided: add to this that The Wrekin, that large and venerable hill, appears full in front, at the diſtance of about thirty miles.

The ſcene is a very fine one, divided by the firs in⯑to ſeveral compartments, each anſwering to the octa⯑gonal ſeat in the centre; to each of which is allotted a competent number of ſtriking objects to make a complete picture. A long ſerpentine ſtream waſhes the foot of this hill, and is loſt behind trees at one end, and a bridge thrown over at the other. Over this the eye is carried from very romantic home⯑ſcenes to very beautiful ones at a diſtance. It is im⯑poſſible to give an idea of that immenſe variety, that fine configuration of parts, which engage our atten⯑tion from this place. In one of the compartments you have a ſimple ſcene of a cottage, and a road winding behind a farm-houſe half covered with trees, upon the top of ſome wild ſloping ground; and in an⯑other a view of the town, appearing from hence as upon the ſhelving banks of a large piece of water in the flat. Suffice it to ſay, that the hill and vale, plain and woodland, villages and ſingle houſes, blue diſtant mountains that ſkirt the horizon, and green hills ro⯑mantically jumbled, that form the intermediate ground, make this ſpot more than commonly ſtri⯑king—nor is there to be ſeen an acre of level ground through the large extent to which the eye is carried.

[xxxiv] Hence the path winds on betwixt two ſmall benches, each of which exhibits a pleaſing landſcape, which can⯑not eſcape the eye of a connoiſſeur.

Here we wind through a ſmall thicket, and ſoon enter a cavity in the hill, filled with trees, in the centre of which is a ſeat, from whence is diſcovered, gleaming acroſs the trees, a conſiderable length of the ſerpentine ſtream before mentioned, running un⯑der a ſlight ruſtic bridge to the right: hence we aſcend in a kind of Gothic alcove, looking down a ſlope, ſided with large oaks and tall beeches, which toge⯑ther over-arch the ſcene. On the back of this build⯑ing is found the following

INSCRIPTION.

Below this alcove is a large ſloping lawn, finely bounded, croſſed by the ſerpentine water before mentioned, [xxxv] and interſperſed with ſingle, or clumps of oaks at agreeable diſtances. Further on the ſcene is finely varied, the hills riſing and falling towards the oppoſite concavities, by the ſide of a long winding vale, with the moſt graceful confuſion. A⯑mong other ſcenes that form this landſcape, a fine hanging wood, backed and contraſted with a wild heath, interſected with croſs roads, is a very conſi⯑derable object. Near adjoining to this is a ſeat, from whence the water is ſeen to advantage in many dif⯑ferent ſtages of its progreſs; or where (as a poetical friend once obſerved) the proprietor has taken the Naiad by the hand, and led her an irregular dance into the valley.

Proceeding hence through a wicket, we enter up⯑on another lawn, beyond which is a new theatre of wild ſhaggy precipices, hanging coppice ground, and ſmooth round hills between, being not only differ⯑ent, but even of an oppoſite character, to the ground from which we paſſed. Walking along the head of this lawn, we come to a ſeat under a ſpreading beech, with this

INSCRIPTION.

IMITATION.

[xxxvi] In the centre of the hanging lawn before you is diſcovered the houſe, half hid with trees and buſhes: a little hanging wood, and a piece of winding wa⯑ter, iſſues through a noble clump of large oaks and ſpreading beeches. At the diſtance of about ten or twelve miles Lord Stamford's grounds appear, and beyond theſe the Clee hills in Shropſhire. The ſcene here conſiſts of admirably-varied ground, and is, I think, a very fine one. Hence paſſing ſtill along the top of the lawn, we croſs another gate, and behind the fence being to deſcend into the valley. About half way down is a ſmall bench, which throws the eye upon a near ſcene of hanging woods and ſhaggy wild declivities, intermixed with ſmooth green ſlopes and ſcenes of cultivation.

We now return again into the great lawn at bot⯑tom, and ſoon come to a ſeat, which gives a nearer view of the water before mentioned, between the trunks of high overſhadowing oaks and beeches, be⯑yond which the winding line of trees is continued down the valley to the right. To the left, at a di⯑ſtance, the top of Clent hill appears, and the houſe upon a ſwell, amidſt trees and buſhes. In the centre, the eye is carried by a ſideling view down a length of [xxxvii] lawn, till it reſts upon the town and ſpire of Hales, with ſome pictureſque and beautiful ground riſing behind it.

Somewhat out of the path, and in the centre of a noble clump of ſtately beeches, is a ſeat inſcribed to Mr. Spence, in theſe words:‘IOSEPHO SPENCE,
eximio noſtro Critoni;
cvi dicari vellet
Mvſarvm omnivm et Gratiarvm chorvs,
dicat amicitia.
1758^†.’

We now, through a ſmall gate, enter what is called The Lover's Walk, and proceed immediately to a ſeat where the water is ſeen very advantageouſly at full length; which, though not large, is ſo agreeably ſhap⯑ed, and has its bounds ſo well concealed, that the beholder may receive leſs pleaſure from many lakes of greater extent. The margin on one ſide is fringed with alders, the other is overhung with moſt ſtately oaks and beeches, and the middle beyond the wa⯑ter preſents the Hales Owen ſcene, with a group of houſes on the ſlope behind, and the horizon well [xxxviii] fringed with the wood. Now winding a few paces round the margin of the water, we come to another ſmall bench, which preſents the former ſcene ſome⯑what varied, with the addition of a whited village a⯑mong trees upon a hill. Proceeding on, we enter the pleaſing gloom of this agreeable walk, and come to a bench beneath a ſpreading beech that overhangs both walk and water, which has been called The Aſſigna⯑tion Seat, and has this inſcription on the back of it:

Here the path begins gradually to aſcend beneath a depth of ſhade, by the ſide of which is a ſmall bub⯑bling rill, either forming little peninſulas, rolling over pebbles, or falling down ſmall caſcades, all under cover, and taught to murmur very agreeably. This very ſoft and penſive ſcene, very properly ſtyled The Lover's Walk, is terminated with an ornamented urn, inſcribed to Miſs Dolman, a beautiful and ami⯑able relation of Mr. Shenſtone's, who died of the ſmall-pox, about twenty-one years of age, in the fol⯑lowing words on one ſide:‘[xxxix] Peramabili ſuae conſobrinae
M. D.’ On the other ſide:‘Ah! Maria!
pvellarvm elegantiſſima!
ah Flore venvſtatis abrepta,
vale!
hev qvanto minvs eſt
cvm reliqvis verſari,
qvant tvi
meminiſſe^†!’

The aſcent from hence winds ſomewhat more ſteep⯑ly to another ſeat, where the eye is thrown over a rough ſcene of broken and furzy ground, upon a piece of water in the flat, whoſe extremities are hid behind trees and ſhrubs, amongſt which the houſe appears, and makes upon the whole no unpleaſing picture. The path ſtill winds under cover up the hill, the ſteep declivity of which is ſomewhat eaſed by the ſerpen⯑tine ſweep of it, till we come to a ſmall bench, with this line from Pope's Eloiſa:

The opening before it preſents a ſolitary ſcene of trees, thickets, and precipice, and terminates upon a green hill, with a clump of firs on the top of it.

We now find the great uſe as well as beauty of the ſerpentine path in climbing up this wood, the firſt ſeat of which, alluding to the rural ſcene before it, has the following lines from Virgil:

Here the eye looking down a ſlope beneath the ſpread⯑ing arms of oak and beech trees, paſſes firſt over ſome rough furzy ground, then over water to the large ſwelling lawn, in the centre of which the houſe is diſ⯑covered among trees and thickets: this forms the fore ground. Beyond this appears a ſwell of waſte furzy land, diverſified with a cottage, and a road that winds behind a farm-houſe and a fine clump of trees. The back ſcene of all is a ſemicircular range of hills, diverſified with woods, ſcenes of cultivation, and in⯑cloſures, to about four or five miles' diſtance.

Still winding up into the wood, we come to a ſlight ſeat, opening through the trees to a bridge of five [xli] piers, croſſing a large piece of water at about half a mile's diſtance. The next ſeat looks down from a conſiderable height, along the ſide of a ſteep preci⯑pice, upon irregular and pleaſing ground. And now we turn upon a ſudden into a long ſtraight-lined walk in the wood, arched over with tall trees, and termi⯑nating with a ſmall ruſtic building. Though the walk, as I ſaid, be ſtraight-lined, yet the baſe riſes and falls ſo agreeably, as leaves no room to cenſure its forma⯑lity. About the middle of this avenue, which runs the whole length of this hanging wood, we arrive unexpectedly at a lofty Gothic ſeat, whence we look down a ſlope, more conſiderable than that before mentioned, through the wood on each ſide. This view is indeed a fine one, the eye firſt travelling down over well-variegated ground into the valley, where is a large piece of water, whoſe ſloping banks give all the appearance of a noble river. The ground from hence riſes gradually to the top of Clent hill, at three or four miles' diſtance, and the landſcape is enriched with a view of Hales Owen, the late Lord Dudley's houſe, and a large wood of Lord Lyttleton's. It is impoſſible to give an adequate deſcription of this view, the beauty of it depending upon the great va⯑riety of objects and beautiful ſhape of ground, and all at ſuch a diſtance as to admit of being ſeen diſtinctly.

Hence we proceed to the ruſtic building before mentioned, a ſlight and unexpenſive edifice, formed [xlii] of rough unhewn ſtone, commonly called here The Temple of Pan, having a trophy of the Tibia and Syrinx, and this inſcription over the entrance:

Hence mounting once more to the right, through this dark umbrageous walk, we enter at once upon a lightſome high natural terrace, whence the eye is thrown over all the ſcenes we have ſeen before, to⯑gether with many fine additional ones, and all be⯑held from a declivity that approaches as near a pre⯑cipice as is agreeable. In the middle is a ſeat with this inſcription: ‘Divini gloria rvris^‖!’ To give a better idea of this, by far the moſt magni⯑ficent ſcene here, it were, perhaps, beſt to divide it into two diſtinct parts—the noble concave in the front, and the rich valley towards the right.—In re⯑gard to the former, if a boon companion could en⯑large his idea of a punch-bowl, ornamented within with all the romantic ſcenery the Chineſe ever yet deviſed, it would, perhaps, afford him the higheſt idea he could poſſibly conceive of earthly happineſs: [xliii] he would certainly wiſh to ſwim in it. Suffice it to ſay, that the horizon, or brim, is as finely varied as the cavity. It would be idle here to mention the Clee hills, the Wrekin, the Welſh mountains, or Caer Ca⯑radoc, at a prodigious diſtance; which, though they finiſh the ſcene agreeably, ſhould not be mentioned at the Leaſowes, the beauty of which turns chiefly upon diſtinguiſhable ſcenes. The valley upon the right is equally enriched, and the oppoſite ſide thereof well fringed with woods, and the high hills on one ſide this long winding vale rolling agreeably into the hol⯑lows on the other. But theſe are a kind of objects which, though really noble in the ſurvey, will not ſtrike a reader in deſcription as they would a ſpecta⯑tor upon the ſpot.

Hence returning back into the wood, and croſſing Pan's Temple, we go directly down the ſlope into another part of Mr. Shenſtone's grounds, the path leading down through very pleaſing home-ſcenes of well-ſhaped ground, exhibiting a moſt perfect concave and convex, till we come at a ſeat under a noble beech, preſenting a rich variety of fore-ground, and at, perhaps, half a mile's diſtance, the Gothic alcove on a hill well covered with wood, a pretty cottage un⯑der trees in the more diſtant part of the concave, and a farm-houſe upon the right, all pictureſque objects.

The next and the ſubſequent ſeat afford pretty much the ſame ſcenes a little enlarged, with the addition [xliv] of that remarkable clump of trees called Frankly Beeches, adjoining to the old family-ſeat of the Lyt⯑tletons, and from whence the preſent Lord Lyttle⯑ton derives his title.

We come now to a handſome Gothic ſcreen, backed with a clump of firs, which throws the eye in front full upon a caſcade in the valley, iſſuing from beneath a dark ſhade of poplars. The houſe appears in the centre of a large ſwelling lawn, buſhed with trees and thicket. The pleaſing variety of eaſy ſwells and hol⯑lows, bounded by ſcenes leſs ſmooth and cultivated, affords the moſt delightful picture of domeſtic retire⯑ment and tranquillity.

We now deſcend to a ſeat incloſed with handſome pales, and backed with firs, inſcribed to Lord Lyt⯑tleton. It preſents a beautiful view up a valley con⯑tracted gradually, and ending in a group of moſt magnificent oaks and beeches. The right-hand ſide is enlivened with two ſtriking caſcades, and a wind⯑ing ſtream ſeen at intervals between tufts of trees and woodland. To the left appears the hanging wood already mentioned, with the Gothic ſcreen on the ſlope in the centre.

Winding ſtill downwards, we come to a ſmall ſeat, where one of the offices of the houſe, and a view of a cottage on very high ground, is ſeen over the tops of the trees of the grove in the adjacent valley, giving an agreeable inſtance of the abrupt inequality of [xlv] ground in this romantic well-variegated country. The next ſeat ſhews another face of the ſame valley, the water gliding calmly along betwixt two ſeeming groves without any caſcade, as a contraſt to the former one, where it was broken by caſcades: the ſcene very ſig⯑nificantly alluded to by the motto,

We deſcend now to a beautiful gloomy ſcene, call⯑ed Virgil's Grove, where, on the entrance, we paſs by a ſmall obeliſk on the right hand, with this in⯑ſcription: ‘P. Virgilio Maroni
Lapis iſte cvm lvco ſacer eſto^‖’ Before this is a ſlight bench, where ſome of the ſame objects are ſeen again, but in a different point of light. It is not very eaſy either to paint or deſcribe this delightful grove: however, as the former has been more than once attempted, I will hope to apologize for an imperfect deſcription, by the difficulty found [xlvi] by thoſe who have aimed to ſketch it with their pen⯑cil. Be it, therefore, firſt obſerved, that the whole ſcene is opaque and gloomy, conſiſting of a ſmall deep valley or dingle, the ſides of which are incloſed with irregular tufts of hazel and other underwood, and the whole overſhadowed with lofty trees riſing out of the bottom of the dingle, through which a copious ſtream makes its way through moſſy banks, enamelled with primroſes, and variety of wild wood flowers. The firſt ſeat we approach is thus inſcribed:

This ſeat is placed upon a ſteep bank on the edge of the valley, from which the eye is here drawn down [xlvii] into the flat below, by the light that glimmers in front, and by the ſound of various caſcades, by which the winding ſtream is agreeably broken. Oppoſite to this ſeat the ground riſes again in an eaſy concave to a kind of dripping fountain, where a ſmall rill trickles down a rude nich of rock-work, through fern, liver⯑wort, and acquatic weeds, the green area in the mid⯑dle, through which the ſtream winds, being as well ſhaped as can be imagined. After falling down theſe caſcades, it winds under a bridge of one arch, and then empties itſelf into a ſmall lake which catches it a little below. This terminates the ſcene upon the right; and after theſe objects have for ſome time a⯑muſed the ſpectator, his eye rambles to the left, where one of the moſt beautiful caſcades imaginable is ſeen, by way of incident, through a kind of viſta or glade, falling down a precipice overarched with trees, and ſtrikes us with ſurpriſe. It is impoſſible to expreſs the pleaſure which one feels on this occaſion; for though ſurpriſe alone is not excellence, it may ſerve to quicken the effect of what is beautiful. I believe none ever beheld this grove without a thorough ſenſe of ſatisfaction; and were one to chuſe any particular ſpot of this perfectly Arcadian farm, it ſhould, per⯑haps, be this; although it ſo well contraſts both with the terrace and with ſome other ſcenes, that one can⯑not wiſh them ever to be divided. We now proceed to a ſeat at the bottom of a large root on the ſide of a ſlope, with this inſcription:

[xlviii]INSCRIPTION.

The view from it is a calm tranquil ſcene of water, gliding through ſloping ground, with a ſketch through the trees of the ſmall pond below.

The ſcene in this place is that of water ſtealing a⯑long through a rude ſequeſtered vale, the ground on each ſide covered with weeds and field flowers, as that before is kept cloſe ſhaven. Farther on we loſe all ſight of water, and only hear the noiſe, without ha⯑ving the appearance; a kind of effect which the Chi⯑neſe are fond of producing in what they call their Scenes of enchantment. We now turn, all on a ſudden, upon the high caſcade which we admired before in [xlix] viſta. The ſcene around is quite a grotto of native ſtone running up it, roots of trees overhanging it, and the whole ſhaded over head. However, we firſt ap⯑proach, upon the left, a chalybeat ſpring, with an iron bowl chained to it, and this inſcription upon a ſtone: ‘Fons Ferrvginevs
Divae qvae ſeceſſv iſto frvi concedit^†.’ Then turning to the right, we find a ſtone ſeat, ma⯑king part of the aforeſaid cave, with this well-applied inſcription:

which I have often heard Mr. Shenſtone term the definition of a grotto. We now wind up a ſhady path on the left hand, and croſſing the head of this caſ⯑cade, paſs beſide the river that ſupplies it in our way up to the houſe. One ſeat firſt occurs under a ſhady oak as we aſcend the hill; ſoon after we enter the ſhrubbery, which half ſurrounds the houſe, where we find two ſeats, thus inſcribed to two of his moſt par⯑ticular friends. The firſt thus:‘[l] Amicitiae et meritis
RICHARDI GRAVES^†:
Ipſae te, Tityre! pinvs,
Ipſi te fontes, ipſa haec arbvſta, vocabant^‖.’ and a little further the other, with the following in⯑ſcription: ‘Amicitiae et meritis
RICHARDI JAGO^‡.’ From this laſt is an opening down the valley over a large ſliding lawn, well edged with oaks, to a piece of water croſſed by a conſiderable bridge in the flat—the ſteeple of Hales, a village amid trees, making on the whole a very pleaſing picture. Thus winding through flowering ſhrubs, beſide a menageric for doves, we are conducted to the ſtables. But let it not be forgot, that on the entrance into this ſhrub⯑bery the firſt object that ſtrikes us is a Venus de Me⯑dicis, beſide a baſon of gold-fiſh, encompaſſed round with ſhrubs, and illuſtrated with the following in⯑ſcription;