this case, the garden ground ascends from the house. The garden is laid
out to view, almost as a picture hangs on a wall, in the very best
position for the convenience of the spectator; and there is nothing that
gives a greater sense of dignity, with something of a poetical mystery,
than separate flights of steps ascending one after another in plane
after plane--as they do in that magnificent example, Canterbury
Cathedral. It matters not whether the steps are under a roof or not--the
impression received is the same. And there is much beauty in the steps
themselves being long and wide and shallow. Looking uphill we see the
steps; looking downhill they are lost. It is not the foot only that
rests upon the step, it is the eye also, and that is why any handsome
steps with finely-moulded edges are so pleasant to see. The overhanging
edge may have arisen from utility, in that, where a step must be narrow
it gives more space for the foot; but in the wide step it affords still
more satisfaction, giving a good shadow under the moulded edge, and
accentuating the long level lines that are so welcome to the eye.