must be perfect in itself, or it is absurd; therefore, allegory cannot be combined with nature. This is one important and imperative rule.[1] Again, Nature is never mechanical in her arrangements; she never allows two members of a composition exactly to correspond: accordingly, in every piece of art which is to combine, without gradations, with landscape (as must always be the case in monuments), we must not allow a multitude of similar members; the design must be a dignified and simple whole. These two rules being observed, there is hardly any limit to the variety and beauty of effect which may be attained by the fit combination of art and nature. For instance, we have spoken already of the monument to the Swiss, as it affects the mind; we may again adduce it, as a fine address to the eye. A tall crag of grey limestone rises in a hollow, behind the town of Lucerne; it is surrounded with thick foliage of various and beautiful colour; a small stream falls gleaming through one of its fissures, and finds its way into a deep, clear, and quiet pool at its base, an everlasting mirror of the bit of bright sky above, that lightens between the dark spires of the
- ↑ It is to be observed, however, that, if the surrounding features could be made a part of the allegory, their combination might be proper; but this is impossible, if the allegorical images be false imaginations, for we cannot make truth a part of fiction: but, where the allegorical images are representations of truth, bearing a hidden signification, it is sometimes possible to make nature a part of the allegory, and then we have good effect, as in the case of the Lucerne Lion above mentioned.
