at that delightful time, even artificial water, however naked, edgy, and tame its banks, will often receive a momentary charm; for then all that is scattered and cutting, all that disgusts a painter's eye, is blended together in one broad and soothing harmony of light and shadow. I have more than once at such a moment, happened to arrive at a place entirely new to me, and have been struck in the highest degree with the appearance of wood, water, and buildings, that seemed to accompany and

what Socrates did by philosophy; he has called up twilight from earth, and placed it in heaven ;

From that high mount of God whence light and shade Spring forth, the face of brightest heaven had chang'd To grateful twilight.

What is also singular, he has in this passage made shade an essence equally with light, not merely a privation of it; a compliment, never, I believe, paid to shadow before, but which might be expected from his aversion to glare, so frequently, and so strongly expressed:

Hide me from day's garish eye.

When the sun begins to fling
His flaring beams.

set off each other in the happiest manner; and I have felt quite impatient to examine all these beauties by day-light:

"At length the morn, and cold indifference came."

The charm which held them together, and made them act so powerfully as a whole, had vanished..

It may, perhaps, be said, that the imagination from a few imperfect hints, often forms beauties which have no existence, and that indifference may naturally arise, from those phantoms not being realized. I am far from denying the power of partial concealment and obscurity on the imagination; but in these cases, the set of objects when seen by twilight, is beautiful as a picture, and would appear highly so, if exactly represented on the canvas; but in full day-light, the sun, as it were, decompounds what had been so happily mixed together, and separates a striking whole, into detached unimpressive parts.

Nothing, I believe, would be of more service in forming a taste for general effect,

and general composition, than to examine the same scenes in the full distinctness of day, and again after sun-set. In fact, twilight does, what an improver ought to do: it connects what was before scattered; it fills up staring, meagre vacancies; it destroys edginess; and by giving shadow as well as light to water, at once increases both its brilliancy and softness. It must, however, be observed, that twilight, while it takes off the edginess of those objects. which are below the horizon, more sensibly marks the outline of those which are above it, and opposed to the sky; and consequently discovers the defects, as well as the beauties of their forms. From this circumstance improvers may learn a very useful lesson, that the outline against the sky should be particularly attended to, so that nothing lumpy, meagre, or discordant should be there; for at all times, in such a situation, the form is made out, but most of all when twilight has melted the other parts together. At that time many varied groups, and elegant shapes of trees, which were

scarcely noticed in the more general diffu sion of light, distinctly appear; then too the stubborn clump, which before was but too plainly seen, makes a still fouler blot on the horizon; while there is a glimmering of light he maintains his post, nor yields, till even his blackness is at last confounded in the general blackness of night.

These are the powers and effects of that breadth which I have been describing, and which may justly be considered as a source of visual pleasure distinct from all others ; for objects, which in themselves are neither beautiful, nor sublime, nor picturesque, are incidentally made to delight the eye, from their being productive of breadth, This seems to account for the pleasure we receive from many massive, heavy objects, which, when deprived of the effect of that harmonizing principle, and considered singly, are even positively ugly. Such, indeed, is the effect of breadth, that pictures or drawings eminently possessed of it, though they should have no other merit, will al

ways attract the attention of a cultivated eye; while others where the detail is admirable, but where this master-principle is wanting, will often at the first view, be passed by without notice. The mind, however, requires to be stimulated as well as soothed, and there is in this, as in so many other instances, a strong analogy between painting and music: the first effect of mere breadth of light and shadow is to the eye, what that of mere harmony of sounds is to the ear; both produce a pleasing repose, a calm sober delight, which, if not relieved by something less uniform, soon sinks into distaste and weariness: for repose and sleep, which are often used as synonymous terms, are always nearly allied. But as the principle of harmony must be preserved in the wildest and most eccentric pieces of music, in those where sudden, and quickly varying emotions of the soul are expressed; so must that of breadth be equally attended to in scenes of bustle and seeming confusion; in those where the wildest scenery, or most violent