Lectures on Rhetoric and Belles Lettres: Lecture XXIII — Critical Examination of the Style in No. 414 of the Spectator
‘If we consider the works of nature and art, as they are qualified to entertain the imagination, we shall find the last very defective in comparison of the former; for though they may sometimes appear as beautiful or strange, they can have nothing in them of that vastness and immensity which afford so great an entertainment to the mind of the beholder.’
I had occasion formerly to observe, that an introductory sentence should always be short and simple, and contain no more matter than is necessary for opening the subject. This sentence leads to a repetition of this observation, as it contains both an assertion and the proof of that assertion; two things which, for the most part, but especially at first setting out, are with more advantage kept separate. It would certainly have been better, if this sentence had contained only the assertion, ending with the word former; and if a new one had then begun, entering on the proofs of nature's superiority over art, which is the subject continued to the end of the paragraph. The proper division of the period I shall point out, after having first made a few observations which occur on different parts of it.
If we consider the works. Perhaps it might have been preferable, if our author had begun with saying, when we consider the works. Discourse ought always to begin, when it is possible, with a clear proposition. The if which is here employed, converts the sentence into a supposition, which is always in some degree entangling, and proper to be used only when the course of reasoning renders it necessary. As this observation however may, perhaps, be considered as over-refined, and as the sense would have remained the same in either form of expression, I do not mean to charge our author with any error on this account. We cannot absolve him from inaccuracy in what immediately follows — the works of nature and art. It is the scope of the author throughout this whole paper, to compare nature and art together, and to oppose them in several views to each other. Certainly, therefore, in the beginning, he ought to have kept them as distinct as possible, by interposing the preposition, and saying, the works of nature and of art. As the words stand at present, they would lead us to think that he is going to treat of these works, not as contrasted, but as connected; as united in forming one whole. When I speak of body and soul as united in the human nature, I would interpose neither article nor preposition between them; ‘ Man is compounded of soul and body.’ But the case is altered, if I mean to distinguish them from each other; then I represent them as separate, and say, ‘ I am to treat of the interests of the soul, and of the body.’
Though they may sometimes appear as beautiful or strange. I cannot help considering this as a loose member of the period. It does not clearly appear at first what the antecedent is to they. In reading onwards, we see the works of art to be meant; but from the structure of the sentence, they might be understood to refer to the former, as well as to the last. In what follows, there is a greater ambiguity-—may sometimes appear as beautiful or strange. It is very doubtful in what sense we are to understand as, in this passage. For, according as it is accented in reading, it may signify, that they appear equally beautiful or strange, to wit, with the works of nature; and then it has the force of the Latin tam: or it may signify no more than that they appear in the light of beautiful and strange; and then it has the force of the Latin tanquam, without importing any comparison. An expression so ambiguous, is always faulty; and it is doubly so here because, if the author intended the former sense, and meant (as seems most probable) to employ as for a mark of comparison, it was necessary to have mentioned both the compared objects: whereas only one member of the comparison is here mentioned, viz. the works of art: and if he intended the latter sense, as was in that case superfluous and encumbering, and he had better have said simply, appear beautiful or strange. The epithet strange, which Mr. Addison applies to the works of art, cannot be praised. Strange works, appears not by any means a happy expression to signify what he here intends, which is new or uncommon.
The sentence concludes with much harmony and dignity: they can have nothing in them of that vastness and immensity which afford so great an entertainment to the mind of the beholder. There is here a fulness and grandeur of expression well suited to the subject; though, perhaps, entertainment is not quite the proper word for expressing the effect which vastness and immensity have upon the mind. Reviewing the observations that have been made on this period, it might, I think, with advantage, be resolved into two sentences, somewhat after this manner: ‘When we consider the works of nature and of art, as they are qualified to entertain the imagination, we shall find the latter very defective in comparison of the former. The works of art may sometimes appear no less beautiful or uncommon than those of nature; but they can have nothing of that vastness and immensity which so highly transport the mind of the beholder.’
‘The one,’ proceeds our author in the next sentence, ‘may be as polite and delicate as the other; but can never show herself so august and magnificent in the design.’
The one and the other, in the first part of this sentence, must unquestionably refer to the works of nature and of art. For of these he had been speaking immediately before; and with reference to the plural word, works, had employed the plural pronoun they. But in the course of the sentence, he drops this construction; and passes very incongruously to the personification of art — can never show herself. To render his style consistent, art, and not the works of art, should have been made the nominative in this sentence. Art may be as polite and delicate as nature, but can never show herself. Polite is a term oftener applied to persons and to manners, than to things; and is employed to signify their being highly civilized. Polished, or refined, was the idea which the author had in view. Though the general turn of this sentence be elegant, yet, in order to render it perfect, I must observe, that the concluding words, in the design, should either have been altogether omitted, or something should have been properly opposed to them in the preceding member of the period, thus: ‘Art may, in the execution, be as polished and delicate as nature; but in the design, can never show herself so august and magnificent.’
‘There is something more bold and masterly in the rough, careless strokes of nature, than in the nice touches and embellishments of art.’
This sentence is perfectly happy and elegant: and carries, in all the expressions, that curiosa felicitas, for which Mr. Addison is so often remarkable. Bold and masterly, are words applied with the utmost propriety. The strokes of nature, are finely opposed to the touches of art; and the rough strokes to the nice touches; the former, painting the freedom and ease of nature, and the other, the diminutive exactness of art; while both are introduced before us as different performers, and their respective merits in execution very justly contrasted with each other.
‘ The beauties of the most stately garden or palace lie in a narrow compass; the imagination immediately runs them over, and requires something else to gratify her: but in the wide fields of nature, the sight wanders up and down without confinement, and is fed with an infinite variety of images, without any certain stint or number.’
This sentence is not altogether so correct and elegant as the former. It carries, however, in the main, the character of our author’s style; not strictly accurate, but agreeable, easy, and unaffected; enlivened too with a slight personification of the imagination, which gives a gayety to the period. Perhaps it had been better, if this personification of the imagination, with which the sentence is introduced, had been continued throughout, and not changed unnecessarily, and even improperly, into sight, in the second member, which is contrary both to unity and elegance. It might have stood thus: the imagination immediately runs them over, and requires something else to gratify her; but in the wide fields of nature, she wanders up and down without confinement. The epithet stately, which the author uses in the beginning of the sentence, is applicable with more propriety to palaces than to gardens. The close of the sentence, without any certain stint or number, may be objected to, as both superfluous and ungraceful. It might perhaps have terminated better in this manner: she is fed with an infinite variety of images, and wanders up and down without confinement.
‘For this reason, we always find the poet in love with a country life, where nature appears in the greatest perfection, and furnishes out all those scenes that are most apt to delight the imagination.’
There is nothing in this sentence to attract particular attention. One would think it was rather the country, than a country life, on which the remark here made should rest. A country life may be productive of simplicity of manners, and of other virtues: but it is to the country itself, that the properties here mentioned belong, of displaying the beauties of nature, and furnishing those scenes which delight the imagination.
‘But though there are several of these wild scenes that are more delightful than any artificial shows, yet we find the works of nature still more pleasant, the more they resemble those of art; for in this case, our pleasure rises from a double principle; from the agreeableness of the objects to the eye, and from their similitude to other objects; we are pleased, as well with comparing their beauties, as with surveying them, and can represent them to our minds either as copies or as originals. Hence it is, that we take delight in a prospect which is well laid out, and diversified with fields and meadows, woods and rivers; in those accidental landscapes of trees, clouds, and cities, that are sometimes found in the veins of marble, in the curious fretwork of rocks and grottos; and, in a word, in any thing that hath such a degree of variety and regularity as may seem the effect of design, in what we call the works of chance.’
The style in the two sentences which compose this paragraph, is smooth and perspicuous. It lies open in some places to criticism; but lest the reader should be tired of what he may consider as petty remarks, I shall pass over any which these sentences suggest; the rather, too, as the idea which they present to us of nature’s resembling art, of art’s being considered as an original, and nature as a copy, seems not very distinct nor well brought out, nor indeed very material to our author’s purpose.
If the products of nature rise in value, according as they more or less resemble those of art, we may be sure that artificial works receive a greater advantage from the resemblance of such as are natural; because here the similitude is not only pleasant, but the pattern more perfect.’
It is necessary to our present design, to point out two considerable inaccuracies which occur in this sentence. If the products (he had better have said the productions) of nature rise in value according as they more or less resemble those of art. Does he mean, that these productions rise in value both according as they more resemble, and as they less resemble, those of art? His meaning undoubtedly is, that they rise in value only, according as they more resemble them: and, therefore, either of these words, or less, must be struck out, or the sentence must run thus — productions of nature rise or sink in value, according as they more or less resemble. The present construction of the sentence, has plainly been owing to hasty and careless writing.
The other inaccuracy is towards the end of the sentence, and serves to illustrate a rule which I formerly gave, concerning the position of adverbs. The author says, because here the similitude is not only pleasant, but the pattern more perfect. Here, by the position of the adverb only, we are led to imagine that he is going to give some other property of the similitude, that it is not only pleasant, as he says, but more than pleasant; it is useful, or, on some account or other, valuable. Whereas, he is going to oppose another thing to the similitude itself, and not to this property of its being pleasant; and, therefore, the right collocation, beyond doubt, was, because here, not only the similitude is pleasant, but the pattern more perfect: the contrast lying, not between pleasant and more perfect, but between similitude and pattern. Much of the clearness and neatness of style depends on such attentions as these.
‘ The prettiest landscape I ever saw, was one drawn on the walls of a dark room, which stood opposite on one side to a navigable river, and on the other, to a park. The experiment is very common in optics.’
In the description of the landscape which follows, Mr. Addison is abundantly happy: but in this introduction to it, he is obscure and indistinct. One who had not seen the experiment of the camera obscura, could comprehend nothing of what he meant. And even, after we understand what he points at, we are at some loss, whether to understand his description as of one continued landscape, or of two different ones, produced by the projection of the two camera obscuras on opposite walls. The scene, which I am inclined to think Mr. Addison here refers to, is Greenwich Park; with the prospects of the Thames, as seen by a camera obscura, which is placed in a small room in the upper story of the observatory; where I remember to have seen, many years ago, the whole scene here described, corresponding so much to Mr. Addison’s account of it in this passage, that, at the time, it recalled it to my memory.
As the observatory stands in the middle of the park, it overlooks, from one side, both the river and the park; and the objects afterwards mentioned, the ships, the trees, and the deer, are presented in one view, without needing any assistance from opposite walls. Put into plainer language, the sentence might run thus: ‘The prettiest landscape I ever saw, was one formed by a camera obscura, a common optical instrument, on the wall of a dark room, which overlooked a navigable river and a park.’
‘ Here you might discover the waves and fluctuations of the water in strong and proper colours, with the picture of a ship entering at one end, and sailing by degrees through the whole piece. On another, there appeared the green shadows of trees, waving to and fro .with the wind, and herds of deer among them in miniature, leaping about upon the wall.’
Bating one or two small inaccuracies, this is beautiful and lively painting. The principal inaccuracy lies in the connexion of the two sentences, here and on another. 1 suppose the author meant, on one side, and on another side. As it stands, another is ungrammatical, having nothing to which it refers. But the fluctuations of the water, the ship entering and sailing on by degrees, the trees waving in the wind, and the herds of deer among them leaping about, is all very elegant, and gives a beautiful conception of the scene meant to be described.
‘I must confess, the novelty of such a sight may be one occasion of its pleasantness to the imagination; but certainly the chief reason is, its near resemblance to nature; as it does not only, like other pictures, give the colour and figure, but the motions of the things it represents.’
In this sentence there is nothing remarkable, either to be praised or blamed. In the conclusion, instead of the things it represents, the regularity of correct style requires the things which it represents. In the beginning, as one occasion and the chief reason are opposed to one another, I should think it better to have repeated the same word: one reason of its pleasantness to the imagination, but certainly the chief reason is, &c.
‘We have before observed, that there is generally, in nature, something more grand and august than what we meet with in the curiosities of art. When, therefore, we see this imitated in any measure, it gives us a nobler and more exalted kind of pleasure, than what we receive from the nicer and more accurate productions of art.’
It would have been better to have avoided terminating these two sentences in a manner so similar to each other; curiosities of art— productions of art.
‘On this account, our English gardens are not so entertaining to the fancy as those in France and Italy, where we see a large extent of ground covered with an agreeable mixture of garden and forest, which represents every where an artificial rudeness, much more charming than that neatness and elegance which we meet with in those of our own country.’
The expression, represent every where an artificial rudeness, is so inaccurate, that I am inclined to think, what stood in Mr. Addison’s manuscript must have been present every where. F or the mixture of garden and forest does not represent, but actually exhibits or presents, artificial rudeness. That mixture represents indeed natural rudeness, that is, is designed to imitate it; but it in reality is, and presents, artificial rudeness.
‘It might indeed be of ill consequence to the public, as well as unprofitable to private persons, to alienate so much ground from pasturage and the plough, in many parts of a country that is so well peopled and cultivated to a far greater advantage. But why may not a whole estate be thrown into a kind of garden by frequent plantations, that may turn as much to the profit as the pleasure of the owner? A marsh overgrown with willows, or a mountain shaded with oaks, are not only more beautiful, but more beneficial, than when they lie bare and unadorned. Fields of corn make a pleasant prospect; and if the walks were a little taken care of that lie between them, and the natural embroidery of the meadows were helped and improved by some small additions of art, and the several rows of hedges were set off by trees and flowers that the soil was capable of receiving, a man might make a pretty landscape of his own possessions.’
The ideas here are just, and the style is easy and perspicuous, though in some places bordering on the careless. In that passage, for instance, if the walks were a little taken care of that lie between them, one member is clearly out of its place, and the turn of the phrase a little taken care of, is vulgar and colloquial. Much better, if it had run thus: if a little care were bestowed on the walks that lie between them.
‘Writers who have given us an account of China, tell us, the inhabitants of that country laugh at the plantations of our Europeans, which are laid out by the rule and the line; because, they say, any one may place trees in equal rows and uniform figures. They choose rather to show a genius in works of this nature, and, therefore, always conceal the art by which they direct themselves. They have a word, it seems, in their language, by which they express the particular beauty of a plantation, that thus strikes the imagination at first sight, without discovering what it is, has so agreeable an effect.’
These sentences furnish occasion for no remark, except that in the last of them, particular is improperly used instead of peculiar; the peculiar beauty of a plantation that thus strikes the imagination, was the phrase to have conveyed the idea which the author meant; namely, the beauty which distinguishes it from plantations of another kind.
‘Our British gardeners, on the contrary, instead of humouring nature, love to deviate from it as much as possible. Our trees rise in cones, globes, and pyramids. We see the marks of the scissors on every plant and bush.’
These sentences are lively and elegant. They make an agreeable diversity from the strain of those which went before; and are marked with the hand of Mr. Addison. I have to remark only, that in the phrase, instead of humouring nature, love to deviate from it — humouring and deviating, are terms not properly opposed to each other; a sort of personification of nature is begun in the first of them, which is not supported in the second. To humouring, was to have been opposed thwarting; or if deviating was following, or going along with nature, was to have been used.
‘ I do not know whether I am singular in my opinion, but for my own part, I would rather look upon a tree, in all its luxuriancy and diffusion of boughs and branches, than when it is thus cut and trimmed into a mathematical figure; and cannot but fancy that an orchard, in flower, looks infinitely more delightful, than all the little labyrinths of the most finished parterre.’
This sentence is extremely harmonious, and every way beautiful. It carries all the characteristics of our author’s natural, graceful, and flowing language. A tree, in all its luxuriancy and diffusion of boughs and branches, is a remarkably happy expression. The author seems to become luxuriant in describing an object which is so, and thereby renders the sound a perfect echo to the sense.
‘But as our great modellers of gardens have their magazines of plants to dispose of, it is very natural in them to tear up all the beautiful plantations of fruit trees, and contrive a plan that may most turn to their profit, in taking off their evergreens, and the like moveable plants, with which their shops are plentifully stocked.’
An author should always study to conclude, when it is in his power, with grace and dignity. It is somewhat unfortunate, that this paper did not end, as it might very well have done, with the former beautiful period. The impression left on the mind by the beauties of nature, with which he had been entertaining us, would then have been more agreeable. But in this sentence there is a great falling off; and we return with pain from those pleasing objects, to the insignificant contents of a nursery-man’s shop.