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 REMARKS 
 
 ON 
 
 FOREST SCENERY; 
 
 AND OTHER 
 
 WOODLAND VIEWS.
 
 
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 ^ / W^ ^*U<**
 
 REMARKS 
 
 ON 
 
 jForest 
 
 AND OTHER 
 
 WOODLAND VIEWS, 
 
 (RELATIVE CHIEFLY TO 
 
 PICTURESQUE BEAUTY) 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY THE 
 
 SCENES OF NEW-FOREST 
 
 IN THREE BOOKS. 
 
 Happy he, 
 
 Whom what he views of beautiful, or grand, 
 In nature, from the broad, majeftic oak 
 To the green blade, that twinkles in the fun, 
 Prompt with remembrance of a prefent God. 
 
 COWPER'S Poems. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 / 
 
 BY WILLIAM'GILPIN, A.M. 
 
 PREBENDARY OF SALISBURY; 
 AND VICAR OF BOLDRE IN NEW-FOREST, NEAR LYMINGTON. 
 
 London ; 
 
 PRINTED FOR R. BLAMIRE, IN THE STRAND. 
 
 1794.
 
 v, / 
 
 TO 
 
 William Mitford, 
 
 LIEUT. COL. OF THE SOUTHERN BATTALION 
 OF HAMPSHIRE MILITIA; 
 
 AND 
 
 ONE OF THE VERDERORS OF NEW-FOREST. 
 
 Vicar's-hill, March 4, 1791. 
 
 DEAR SIR, 
 
 WHEN your 
 
 friendftiip fixed me in this pleafmg 
 retreat, within the precinfts of 
 New-foreft, I had little intention 
 of wandering farther among it's 
 fcenes, than the bounds of my 
 own parifh ; or .of amufmg myfelf 
 ril b any
 
 ( ii ) 
 
 any more with writing on pic- 
 turefque fubjefts. But one fcene 
 drew me on to another; till at 
 length I had traverfed the whole 
 foreft. The fubjeft was new to 
 me. I had been much among 
 lakes, and mountains : but I had 
 never lived in a foreft. I knew 
 little of it's fcenery. Every thing 
 caught my attention ; and as I 
 generally had a memorandum- 
 book in my hand, I made minutes 
 of what I obferved ; throwing my 
 remarks under the two heads of 
 foreft-fcenery in general; and the 
 fcenery of particular places. Thus, 
 as fmall things lead to greater, an 
 evening walk, or ride, became the 
 foundation of a volume. 
 
 In
 
 In methodizing my remarks I 
 divided them into three books. 
 In the firft, L have confidered 
 trees, (which are the foundation of 
 all fcenery,) as Jingle obje&s. I 
 have endeavoured to inveftigate 
 their general pifturefque quali- 
 ties in their feveral kinds and 
 
 in the fpecific charafter of each ; 
 concluding the book with a ftiort 
 account of fome of the moft cele- 
 brated trees, which have been 
 noticed. 
 
 The fecond book confiders 
 trees under their various modes of 
 compofition, from the clump to the 
 foreft. It confiders them likewife 
 under the feveral pifturefque cir- 
 b 2 cumftances
 
 ( iv ) 
 
 cumftances of permanent, and acci- 
 dental beauty, in which we often 
 find them. As the firft book con- 
 cluded with an account of diftin- 
 guifhed trees, the fecond concludes 
 with a ftiort view of foreft-hiftory ; 
 and of the feveral forefts, that may 
 be traced in. Great Britain. 
 
 This leads me dire&ly to 
 New-foreft, which is the fubjeft 
 of the third book. It opens with 
 a few obfervations on this cele- 
 brated trad of country. The 
 fcenery of it is next defcribed in 
 a feries of journeys through it's 
 feveral divifions ; and laftly, the 
 modes and habits of life are re- 
 marked,
 
 marked, of fuch animals, as inhabit, 
 and embellifh it. 
 
 It is now, my dear Sir, above 
 ten years, fince you firft faw this 
 work in MS. ; during which time 
 it has received frequent revifal ; 
 and much addition, as new occur- 
 rences, and obfervations arofe. To 
 many of my friends likewife I owe 
 obligations, who have affifted me 
 with their criticifms ; and to you 
 in particular, who are fo well 
 acquainted with thefe fcenes, and 
 have furniflied me with many ju- 
 dicious remarks, and entertaining 
 
 foreft-anecdotes. 1 am defirous, 
 
 you fee, to engage you with me 
 in this work. You are as fond of 
 
 thefe
 
 thefe amufements as I am ; and 
 when we trifle, we like to have 
 the fanftion of thofe we efteem, 
 to trifle with us. 1 hope how- 
 ever, that while you are ihewing the 
 world how Herodotus and Thucy- 
 dides would have written in Eng- 
 lifli, and are throwing the colours 
 of truth on the crimes of antiquity : 
 and while I am humbly endeavour- 
 ing to point out, as my profeflion 
 leads, that greater advantages fhould 
 be attended with more virtuous 
 
 conducl the world will not be 
 
 fo cynical as to find fault with our 
 amufements ; which tho certainly 
 innocent, and rational, I believe 
 neither of us confiders as the prin- 
 cipal employment of our lives. 
 
 How
 
 How far the following work 
 may be an amufement to others, I 
 know not : ' You will, I am fure, 
 accept it with indulgence ; and as a 
 mark of that efteem, affeftion, and 
 friendfhip, with which I am, my 
 dear Sir, 
 
 Your very fmcere, 
 And obliged, humble fervant, 
 WILLIAM GILPIN,
 
 OBSERVATIONS 
 
 ON 
 
 FOREST SCENERY. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 IT is no exaggerated praife to call a tree the 
 grandeft, and moft beautiful of all the pro- 
 ductions of the earth. In the former of 
 thefe epithets nothing contends with it; for 
 we coniider rocks and mountains, as part of 
 the earth itfelf. And tho among inferior plants, 
 fhrubs, and flowers, there is great beauty ; 
 yet when we confider, that thefe minuter pro- 
 ductions are chiefly beautiful as individuals ; 
 and are not adapted to form the arrangement 
 of compojition in landfcape ; nor to receive the 
 effe&s of light and fhade -, they muft give place 
 in point of beauty of pitturefque beauty at 
 leaft, which we are here confidering to the 
 form and foliage, and ramification of the tree. 
 Thus the fplendid tints of the infect, how- 
 ever beautiful, muft yield to the elegance, and 
 VOL. i. B pro-
 
 ( 2 ) 
 
 proportion of animals, which range in a higher 
 clafs. 
 
 With animal life, I fbould not fet the tree 
 in competition. The fhape, the different- 
 coloured fur, the varied, and fpirited attitudes, 
 the character, and motion, which flrike us 
 in the animal creation, are certainly beyond 
 frill-life in it's moil pleafing appearance. I 
 mould only obferve with regard to trees, that 
 nature has been kinder to them in point of 
 variety, than even to it's living forms. Tho 
 every animal is diftinguimed from it's fellow, 
 by fome little variation of colour, character, 
 or fhape ; yet in all the larger parts, in the 
 body and limbs, the refemblance is generally 
 exact. 'In trees it is juft the reverfe : the 
 fmaller parts, the fpray, the leaves, the blof- 
 fom, and the feed, are the fame in all trees of 
 the fame kind : while the larger parts are whol- 
 ly different : you never fee two oaks with an 
 equal number of limbs, the fame kind of head, 
 and twitted in the fame form : and it is from 
 thefe larger parts, that the moft beautiful 'varie- 
 ties refult. However, as variety is not alone 
 
 fufficient to give fuperiority to the tree -, we 
 give the preference on the whole, to animal 
 life. 
 
 SECT.
 
 ( 3 ) 
 
 SECT. II. 
 
 nPREES when young, like ftriplings, (hoot 
 -u- into taper forms. There is a lightnefs, 
 and an airinefs in them, which is pleafing ; 
 but they do not fpread, and receive their juft 
 proportions, till they have attained their full 
 growth. 
 
 There is as much difference too in trees, (I 
 mean in trees of the fame kind,) in point of 
 beauty, as there is in human figures. The 
 limbs of fome are fet on awkwardly ; their 
 trunks are difproportioned -, and their whole 
 form is unpleafing. The fame rules, which 
 eftablim elegance in other objects, eftablifh it 
 in thefe. There muft be the fame harmony 
 of parts ; the fame fweeping line -, the fame 
 contraft ; the fame eafe and freedom. A bough 
 indeed may ifTue from it's trunk at right-angles, 
 and yet elegantly, as it frequently does in the 
 oak ; but it muft immediately form fome 
 B 2 contrafting
 
 ( 4 ) 
 
 contrafting fweep, or the junction will be 
 awkward. 
 
 All forms, 'that are unnatural, difpleafe. A 
 tree lopped into a may-pole, as you generally 
 fee in the hedge-rows of Surry, and fome other 
 countries, is difgufting. Clipped yews, lime 
 hedges, and pollards for the fame reafon are 
 difagreeable : and yet I have fometimes feen a 
 pollard produce a good effect, when nature has 
 been fuffered, for fome years, to bring it again 
 into form : but I never faw a good effect pro- 
 duced by a pollard, on which fome lingle 
 ftem was left to grow into a tree. The flem 
 is of a different growth : it is difproportioned ; 
 and always unites awkwardly with the trunk. 
 
 Not only all forms, that are unnatural, 
 difpleafe ; but even natural forms, when they 
 bear a refemblance to art, unlefs indeed thefe 
 forms are characteriftic of the fpecies. A 
 cyprefs pleafes in a conic form; but, if we 
 mould fee an oak, or an elm growing naturally 
 in that, or any other contained fhape, we 
 fhould take offence. In the cyprefs nature 
 adapts the fpray, and branches to the form of 
 the tree. In the oak and elm the fpray, and 
 
 branches
 
 ( 5 ) 
 
 branches produce naturally a different cha- 
 racter. 
 
 Lightnefs alfo is a charafteriftic of beauty in 
 a tree : for tho there are beautiful trees of a 
 heavy, as well as of a light form ; yet their 
 extremities muft in fome parts be feparated, 
 and hang with a degree of loofenefs from the 
 fulnefs of the foliage, which occupies the 
 middle of the tree, or the whole will only be 
 a large buih. Such is the horfe-chefnut, the 
 form of which is commonly unpleafmg. From 
 pofition indeed, and contrail, heavinefs, tho in 
 itfelf a deformity, may be of iingular ufe in 
 the compofition both of natural, and of artificial 
 landscape. 
 
 A tree alfo muft be well-balanced to be 
 beautiful. It may have form, and it may 
 have lightnefs ; and yet lofe all it's effect, by 
 wanting a proper poife. The bole muft appear 
 to fupport the branches. We do not wifh 
 to fee it fupporting it's burden with the per- 
 pendicular firmnefs of a column. An eafy 
 fweep is always agreeable -, but at the fame 
 B 3 time
 
 ( 6 ) 
 
 time it Should not be fuch a fweep, as dif- 
 eovers one fide plainly overbalanced. 
 
 On bleak fea-coafts, trees generally take an 
 unbalanced form : and indeed in general, fome 
 foreign caufe muft operate to occafion it ; for 
 nature working freely, is as much inclined to 
 balance a tree upon it's trunk, as an animal 
 upon it's legs. 
 
 And yet in fome circumstances, I have feen 
 beauty arife even from an unbalanced tree - y 
 but it muft arife from fome peculiar Situation, 
 which gives it a local propriety. A tree, for 
 inftance, hanging from a rock, tho totally 
 unpoifed, may be beautiful : or it may have a 
 good effect, when we fee it bending over a 
 road -, becaufe it correfponds with it's peculiar 
 fituation. We do not, in thefe cafes, admire 
 it as a tree ; but as the adjunct of an effect ; 
 the beauty of which does not give the eye 
 leifure to attend to the deformity of the inftru- 
 ment, through which the effect is produced. 
 
 Without thefe requisites therefore, form, 
 light nefs y and a proper balance, no tree can 
 have that fpecies of beauty, which we call 
 pifturefque. 
 
 SECT.
 
 ( 7 ) 
 
 SECT. III. 
 
 ID ESIDES thefe requifites of beauty in a 
 ~' tree, there are other things of an adven- 
 titious kind, which often add great beauty to 
 it. And here I cannot help lamenting the 
 capricious nature of piciurefque ideas. In 
 many inftances they run counter to utility -, 
 and in nothing more than in the adventitious 
 beauties afcribed to trees. Many of thefe are 
 derived from the injuries the tree receives, or 
 the difeafes, to which it is fubject. Mr. 
 Lawfon, a naturalift of the lail age, thus enu- 
 merates them. " How many forefts, and 
 woods, fays he, have we, wherein you fhall 
 have, for one lively, thriving tree, four, nay 
 fometimes twenty-four, evil thriving, rotten, 
 and dying trees : what rottennefs ! what hol- 
 lownefs ! what dead arms ! withered tops ! 
 curtailed trunks ! what loads of mofles ! droop- 
 B 4 ing
 
 ing boughs, and dying branches, (hall you fee 
 every where !"* 
 
 Now all thefe maladies, which our diflrefled 
 naturalift bemoans with fo much feeling, 
 are often capital fources of picturefque beauty, 
 both in the wild fcenes of nature, and in arti- 
 ficial landfcape. 
 
 What is more beautiful, for inftance, on a 
 rugged foreground, than an old tree with a 
 hollow trunk ? or with a dead arm, a drooping 
 bough, or a dying branch ? all which phrafes, 
 I apprehend are nearly fynonymous. 
 
 From the withered top alfo great ufe, and 
 beauty may refult in the compofition of land- 
 fcape j when we wifh to break the regularity 
 of fome continued line ; which we would not 
 intirely hide. 
 
 By the curtailed trunk I fuppofe Mr. Lawfon 
 means a tree, whofe principal ftem has been 
 mattered by winds, or fome other accident j 
 while the lower part of it is left in vigour. 
 This is alfo a beautiful circumftance ; and 
 it's application equally ufeful in landfcape. 
 The withered top juft breaks the lines of an 
 
 * See Lawfon's Orchard. 
 
 eminence :
 
 ( 9 ) 
 
 eminence : the curtailed trunk difcovers the 
 whole : while the lateral branches, which are 
 vigorous, and healthy in both, hide any part of 
 the lower landfcape, which wanting variety, 
 is better veiled. 
 
 For the ufe, and beauty of the withered top, 
 and curtailed trunk, we need only appeal to 
 the works of Salvator Rofa, in many of 
 which we find them of great ufe. Salvator 
 had often occafion for an object on his fore- 
 grounds, as large as the trunk of a tree , when 
 the whole tree together in it's full ftate of 
 grandeur, would have been an incumbrance 
 to him. A young tree, or a bufh, might 
 probably have ferved his purpofe with regard 
 to compq/ition -, but fuch dwarfs, and ftriplings 
 could not have preferved the dignity of his 
 fubjecl:, like the ruins of a noble tree. Thefe 
 fplendid remnants of decaying grandeur fpeak 
 to the imagination in a flile of eloquence, 
 which the {tripling cannot reach : they record 
 the hiftory of fome ftorm, fome blaft of 
 lightening, or other great event, which tranf- 
 fers it's grand ideas to the lanfcape ; and in 
 the reprefentation of elevated fubje&s affifts the 
 fublime. 
 
 Whether
 
 Whether thefe maladies in trees ever produce 
 beauty in adorned nature, I much doubt. Kent 
 was hardy enough even to plant a withered tree j 
 but the error was too glaring for imitation. 
 Objects in every mode of compoiition mould 
 harmonize; and all we venture to affert, is, 
 that thefe maladies are then only fources of 
 beauty either in the wild fcenes of nature, or 
 in artificial landfcape, when they are the ap- 
 pendages of fame particular mode of compofition. 
 
 The laft, and moft beautiful of thofe difeafes, 
 which Mr. Lawfon afcribes to trees, is mofs. 
 This, it is true, is one of nature's minutiae ; 
 and in painting, touches not the great parts, 
 compofition and ejfetf. Nor is it of ufe in mere 
 drawing. But in coloured landfcape, it is 
 furely a very beautiful object of imitation. 
 The variety of molTes the green, which tinges 
 the trunk of the beech ; the brimftone-co- 
 loured, and black, which ftain the oak ; and 
 the yellow, which is frequently found on the 
 elm, and am, are among the moft beautiful 
 of thofe tints, which embellim the bark of 
 trees. 
 
 I have often flood with admiration before 
 an old foreft-oak, examining the various tints, 
 which have enriched it's furrrowed Hem. The 
 
 genuine
 
 genuine bark of an oak is of an afti-colour, 
 tho it is difficult to diftinguiih any part of 
 it from the mofles, that overfpread it : for 
 no oak, I fuppofe, was ever without a greater, 
 or a lefs proportion of thefe pi&urefque ap- 
 pendages. The lower parts, about the roots, 
 are often poflefled by that green, velvet mofs, 
 which in a ftill greater degree commonly oc- 
 cupies the bole of the beech ; tho the beauty 
 and brilliancy of it lofe much, when in decay. 
 As the trunk rifes, you fee the brimftone 
 colour taking poflefllon in patches. Of this 
 there are two principal kinds ; a fmooth fort, 
 which fpreads like a fcurf over the bark -, and 
 a rougher fort, which hangs in little rich 
 knots, and fringes. I call it a brimftone hue, 
 by way of general diftinction : but it fome- 
 times inclines to an olive ; and fometimes to 
 a light green. Intermixed with thefe mofles 
 you often find a fpecies perfectly white. Be- 
 fore I was acquainted with it, I have fome- 
 times thought the tree white- wafhed. Here 
 and there, a touch of it gives a luftre to the 
 trunk, and has it's effecT: : yet, on the whole, 
 it is a nuifance ; for as it generally begins 
 to thrive, when the other mofles begin to 
 wither (as if the decaying bark were it's 
 
 proper
 
 proper nutriment,) it is rarely accompanied 
 with any of the more beautiful fpecies of it's 
 kind ; and when thus unfupported, it always 
 difgufts. This white mofs, by the way, is 
 efteemed a certain mark of age ; and when 
 it prevails in any degree, is a clear indication, 
 that the vigour of the tree is declining. We 
 find alfo another fpecies of mofs, of a dark 
 brown colour, inclining nearly to black : 
 another of an afhy colour j and another of a 
 dingy yellow. We may obferve alfo touches 
 of red ; and fometimes, but rarely a bright 
 yellow, which is like a gleam of fun-fhine ; 
 and in many trees you will fee one fpecies 
 growing upon another ; the knotted brimftone- 
 coloured fringe clinging to a lighter fpecies > 
 
 or the black foftening into red. Strictly 
 
 fpeaking, many of thefe excrefcences, which 
 I have mentioned under the general name of 
 moffes, mould be diftinguifhed by other names. 
 All thofe particularly, which, cling clofe 
 to the bark of trees, and have a leprous, fcab- 
 by appearance, are clafled, I believe, by 
 botanifts, under the name of lychens : others 
 are called truer-worts. But all thefe excre- 
 fcences, under whatever names diftinguifhed, 
 add a great richnefs to trees ; and when they 
 
 are
 
 ( '3 ) 
 
 are blended harmonioufly, as is generally the 
 cafe, the rough and furrowed trunk of an 
 old oak, adorned with thefe pleafing appen- 
 dages, is an objedt, which will long detain the 
 picture fque eye. 
 
 But befides the appearance of mofs upon 
 the trunks of trees, it creeps among the 
 branches* and fometimes takes pofleflion not 
 only of the larger boughs ; but even of the 
 fmaller fpray. In winter this has often a fine 
 effecT:, when the whole tree, turned into a 
 beautiful piece of flraw-coloured coral, appears 
 again ft a dark wood, or fome other back- 
 ground, which gives it relief. In a ftrong 
 funfhine too it is beautiful ; when the light 
 ftraw-coloured tints contrail with the fhadows 
 formed by the twifting of the boughs ; which 
 are fometimes ftill farther deepened by fome 
 of the darker mofles. 
 
 Thus the maladies of trees are greatly fub- 
 fervient to the ufes of the pencil. The foliage 
 is the drcjs ; and thefe are the ornaments. 
 Even the poet will fometimes deign to array 
 his tree with thefe pifturefque ornaments. I 
 am always glad of his authority, when I can 
 have it : and I have feen a poetical oak gar- 
 niihed in a way, that the painter might copy 
 
 from.
 
 from. In general, however the poet is not, 
 like the painter, uniform in his admiration of 
 thefe plealing appendages. If at one time 
 he admires them with the painter, and ranks 
 them among the pidlurefque beauties of nature ; 
 at another he lides with the wood-man, and 
 brumes them away. Nay, I have known him 
 conjure up fome mighty agent, as guardian of 
 his woods ; who cries out, 
 
 From Jove I am the Power 
 
 Of this fair wood, and live in oaken bower. 
 I nurfe my faplins tall; and cleanfe their rind 
 From vegetating filth of every kind. 
 And all my plants I fave from nightly ill 
 Of noifome winds, and blafting vapours chill. 
 
 Befides Mr. Lawfon's catalogue of maladies 
 we might enumerate others, which are equally 
 the fources of beauty. The blafted tree has 
 often a fine effed: both in natural, and in arti- 
 ficial landfcape. In fome fcenes it is almoft 
 erTential. When the dreary heath is fpread 
 before the eye, and ideas of wildnefs and 
 defolation are required, what more fuitable 
 accompaniment can be imagined, than the 
 blafted oak, ragged, fcathed, and leaflefs ; 
 mooting it's peeled, white branches athwart 
 
 the
 
 ( '5 ) 
 
 the gathering blacknefs of fome rifing ftorm ? 
 Thus the poet treats it -, 
 
 As when heaven's fire 
 
 Hath fcathed the foreft oak, or mountain-pine, 
 With finged top it's ftately growth, tho bare, 
 Stands on the blafted heath. 
 
 Ivy is another mifchief incident to trees, 
 which has a good effect. It gives great rich- 
 nefs to an old trunk, both by it's ftem, which 
 often winds round it in thick, hairy, irregular 
 volumes - y and by it's leaf, which either decks 
 the furrowed bark -, or creeps among the 
 branches ; or hangs carelefsly from them. In 
 all thefe circumftances it unites with the 
 mofTes, and other furniture of the tree, in 
 adorning, and enriching it. But when it 
 gathers into a heavy body, which is often 
 the cafe, it becomes rather a deformity. In 
 fummer indeed it's bufhinefs is loft in the 
 foliage of the tree -, but in, winter, naked 
 branches make a difagreeable appearance flaring 
 from a thick bufo. And yet in autumn I have 
 feen a beautiful contrail between a bum of ivy, 
 which had completely inverted the head of a 
 pollard-oak, and the dark brown tint of the 
 withered leaves, which ftill held poiTeffion of 
 
 the
 
 ( 16 ) 
 
 the branches. But this was a mere accidental 
 effect ; for you may fee many pollard-oaks 
 with withered leaves, and covered with ivy ; 
 and yet not fee the tints fo happily arranged as 
 to produce an effed:. 
 
 In the fpring alfo we fometimes have a 
 plealing appearance of a fimilar kind. About 
 the end of April, when the foliage of the oak 
 is juft beginning to expand, it's varied tints 
 are often delightfully contrafted with the deep 
 green of an ivy-bum, which has overfpread 
 the body, and larger limbs of the tree : and 
 the contrail has been ftill more beautiful, 
 when the limbs are covered, as we fometimes 
 fee them, with tufts of brimftone-coloured 
 mofs. 
 
 All thefe plants are parafitical, as the botanift 
 expreffively calls them. The tribes of moiTes, 
 lychens, and liver-worts make no pretence to 
 independence. They are abfolute retainers. 
 Not one of them gets his own livelihood ; nor 
 takes the leaft ftep towards it. The ivy in- 
 deed is lefs dependent. He has a root of his 
 own, and draws nourishment from the ground : 
 but his character is mifreprefented, if his little 
 feelers have not other purpofes, than merely 
 that of mewing an attachment to his potent 
 
 neighbour.
 
 ( '7 ) 
 
 neighbour. Shakefpear roundly afierts, he 
 makes a property of him : 
 
 He was 
 
 The ivy, which had hid my princely trunk, 
 And fuck'd my verdure out 
 
 Befides this paraiitical tribe the painter ad- 
 mires another clafs of humble plants, which 
 live entirely on their own means ; yet fpreading 
 out their little tendrils, beg merely the pro- 
 .tection of the great > whom if they encumber, 
 as they certainly do in a degree, they enrich 
 with a variety of beautiful flowers, and fcarlet 
 berries. Many of thefe, tho clafled among 
 weeds, have great beauty. Among them, the 
 black, and white brionies are diftinguifhed. 
 The berries alfo of many of thefe little plants 
 are varioufly coloured in the different {rates 
 of their growth, yellow, red, and orange. All 
 thefe rich touches, however fmall, produce 
 their effect. Another elegant climber, called 
 traveller s joy, produces indeed no berries ; 
 but it's feathered feeds are ornamental. The 
 wild honey- fuckle alfo comes within this clafs ; 
 and tho in winding it's fpiral coil, it may 
 comprefs the young tree too tightly, and in fome 
 VOL. i. C degree
 
 degree injure it's circulation ; yet it fully 
 compenfates the injury by the beauty, and 
 fragrancy of it's flowers : 
 
 With clafping tendrils it inverts the branch, 
 Elfe unadorned, with many a gay feftoon, 
 And fragrant chaplet ; recompenfing well 
 The ftrength it borrows with the grace it lends. 
 
 Under warm funs, where vines are the 
 offspring of nature, nothing can be more beau- 
 tiful than the foreft tree, adorned with their 
 twitting branches, hanging from bough to 
 bough, and laden with fruit ; 
 
 ' the clufters clear 
 Half through the foliage feen 
 
 In the road between Pifa and Florence, 
 Dr. Smollet informs us, the country is often 
 thus adorned. The vines are not planted in 
 rows, and propped with flicks, as in France, 
 and the county of Nice; but twine naturally 
 around the hedge-row-trees, which they almofl 
 cover with their foliage, and fruit. Extending 
 from tree to tree, they exhibit beautiful fef- 
 toons of leaves, tendrils, and fwelling clufters, 
 black and white, hanging down from every 
 
 bough
 
 ( '9 ) 
 
 bough in the moft luxuriant, and romantic 
 abundance*. 
 
 Among the moft beautiful appendages of 
 this hanging kind, which we have in England, 
 is the hop. In cultivation it is difagreeable : 
 but in it's rude natural ftate twifting carelefsly 
 round the branches of trees, I know not whe- 
 ther it is not as beautiful as the vine. It's leaf 
 is fimilar ; and tho the bunches of hop, beau- 
 tiful as they are, and fragrant, are not equal 
 to the clufters of the vine ; yet it is a more 
 accommodating plant, hangs more loofely, and 
 is lefs extravagant in it's growth. 
 
 In artificial landfcape indeed, where the fub- 
 jedr. is fublime, thefe appendages are of little 
 value. Such trifling ornaments the fcene re- 
 jects. The rough oak, in the dignity of it's 
 limple form, adorns the foreground better* 
 But in feftive, or Bacchanalian fubjefts (if 
 fuch fubje&s are ever proper for defcription) 
 when the fportive nymphs, and fatyrs take their 
 repofe at noon, or gambol in . the made of 
 evening, nothing can more beautifully adorn 
 their retreat, or more chara&eriftically mark it, 
 
 * Smollet's Travels, vol. ii, page 46: 
 
 C 2 than
 
 ( 20 ) 
 
 than thefe pendent plants, particularly the 
 mantling vine, hanging, as I have here de- 
 fcribed it, in rich feftoons from bough to 
 bough. 
 
 The rooting alfo of trees is a circumftance, 
 on which their beauty greatly depends. I 
 know not whether it is reckoned among the 
 maladies of a tree, to heave his root above 
 the foil. Old trees often do. But whether 
 it be a malady or not, it is certainly very 
 pidturefque. The more they raife the ground 
 around them, and the greater number of ra- 
 dical knobs they heave up, the firmer they 
 feem to eftablim their footing upon the earth; 
 and the more dignity they aflume. An old 
 tree rifing tamely from a fmooth furface, (as 
 we often find it covered with earth in arti- 
 ficial ground,) lofes half it's effect : it does 
 not appear as the lord of the foil ; but to 
 be ftuck into it ; and would have a ftill worfe 
 effed: on canvas, than it has in nature. 
 
 Pliny give us an account of the roots of 
 certain ancient oaks in the Hercynian foreft, 
 which appears rather extravagant ; but which 
 I can eafily conceive to be true. Thefe roots, 
 
 he
 
 he fays, heave the ground upwards, in many 
 places, into lofty mounts ; and in other parts, 
 where the earth does not follow them, the 
 bare roots rife as high as the lower branches $ 
 and twitting round form in many places, portals 
 fo wide, that a man and horfe may ride upright 
 through them*. This indeed is fomewhat 
 higher than picliurefque beauty requires ; it 
 borders rather on the fantaftic. In general 
 however, the higher the roots are, the more 
 piclurefque they appear. 
 
 To the adventitious beauties of trees, we may 
 add their fufceptibility of motion , which is ca- 
 pable at leaft of being a conliderable fourcc 
 of beauty. The waving heads of fome, and the 
 undulation of others, give a continual variety 
 to their forms. In nature the motion of trees 
 is certainly a circumftance of great beauty. 
 Spakefpear formerly made the obfervation : 
 
 Things in motion fooner catch the eye, 
 
 Than what ftirs not 
 
 * Nat. hift. Book xvi. chap. a. 
 
 C 3 To
 
 ( 22 ) 
 
 To the painter alfo the moving tree affords 
 often a piece of ufeful machinery, when he 
 wifhes to exprefs the agitation of air. In this 
 light it may even be confidered as an objection 
 to trees of firmer branches, as the oak, that 
 their refinance to every breath of air, deprives 
 them at leaft, of one fource of beauty, and 
 fubjedts them to be fooner gotten by heart, if 
 I may fo phrafe it, than other trees ; which 
 yielding to the preflure, are every inftant af- 
 fuming new modifications. 
 
 From the motion of the tree, we have alfo 
 the pleafing circumftance of the chequered 
 Jhade, formed under it by the dancing of the 
 fun-beams among it's playing leaves. This 
 circumftance, tho not fo much calculated for 
 picturefque ufe, (as it's beauty arifes chiefly 
 from it's motion) is yet very amufing in nature ; 
 and may alfo be introduced in painting, when 
 the tree is at reft. But it is one of thofe cir- 
 cumftances, which requires a very artful pen- 
 cil. In it's very nature it oppofes the grand 
 principle of marling light, and made. How- 
 ever if it be brought in properly, and not 
 fuffered to glare, it may have it's beauty. 
 But whatever becomes of this circumftance in 
 
 painting ;
 
 painting ; it is very capable of being pleafingly 
 wrought up in poetry. 
 
 The chequered earth feems reftlefs as a flood 
 Brufhed by the winds. So fportive is the light 
 Shot through the boughs; it dances, as they dance, 
 Shadow, and fun-ftiine intermingling quick, 
 And dark'ning, and enlightening, (as the leaves 
 Play wanton,) every part 
 
 C 4
 
 SECT. IV. 
 
 YJTAVING thus examined trees in a gene- 
 A.-4r ral view, I mall now particularize, and 
 endeavour to explain the beauties and defe&s 
 of their fever al kinds, as they regard landfcape. 
 I fhall firft confider them as individuals-, and 
 afterwards in compojltion. 
 
 Trees range under two general heads, deci- 
 duous, and ever-green. In this order I mall take 
 them - y confining my remarks to thofe chiefly 
 of both kinds, which are of Englifh growth, 
 whether native, or naturalized. 
 
 Among deciduous trees, the oak prefents 
 itfelf firil. It is a happinefs to the lovers of 
 the pifturefque, that this noble plant is as 
 ufeful, as it is beautiful. From the utility 
 of the oak, they derive this advantage, that 
 it is every where found. In the choice indeed 
 of it's foil it is rather delicate. For tho it 
 
 is
 
 ( 26 ) 
 
 is rather undiftinguifhing, during it's early 
 growth, while it's horizontal fibres ftraggle 
 about the furface of the earth j yet when it's 
 tap-root begins to enter the depths of the 
 foil, perhaps no tree is nicer in it's difcrimi- 
 nations. If it's conftitution be not fuited here, 
 it may multiply it's progeny indeed, and pro- 
 duce a thriving copfe ; but the puny race 
 will never rife to lordly dignity in the foreft, 
 nor furnifh navies to command the ocean*. 
 
 The particular, and moft valued qualities 
 of the ; oak, are hardinefs and toughnefs. Shake- 
 fpear ufes two epithets to exprefs thefe qualities, 
 which are perhaps ftronger than any we can 
 find. 
 
 Thou rather with thy fharp, and fulph'rous bolt 
 Split'ft the unnuedgeable, and gnarled oak, 
 Than the foft myrtle 
 
 * How quickly the oak vegetates in a foil it likes, maybe feen 
 
 from the following inftance. An acorn was fown at Beckett, 
 
 the feat of Lord Barrington, on the day of his biith in 1 717. In 
 November 1790, it contained 95 feet of timber, which, at 2S. per 
 foot, would fell for 9!. IDS. the top was valued at about il. 155. 
 the girt, at 5 feet from the ground, was about half an inch more 
 than 8 feet. The increafe of the girt, in the two laft years, was 4 
 inches and an half. It grows in rich land, worth il. 55. an acre. 
 
 Many
 
 Many kinds of wood are harder, as box and 
 ebony -, many kinds are tougher, as yew and 
 afh : but it is fuppofed that no fpecies of wood, 
 at leafl no fpecies of timber, is pofleffed of 
 both thefe qualities together in fo great a 
 degree, as Britifh oak. Almofl all arts and 
 manufactures are indebted to it ; but in Ship- 
 building, and bearing burdens, its elafticity, 
 and Strength are applied to moil advantage. 
 I mention thefe mechanic ufes only becaufe fome 
 of it's chief beauties are connected with them. 
 Thus it is not the erect, flately tree, that is 
 always the mofl ufeful in Ship-building ; but 
 more often the crooked one, forming fhort 
 turns, and elbows, which the Shipwrights and 
 carpenters commonly call knee-timber. This 
 too is generally the mofl picturefque. Nor is it 
 the Strait, tall Stem, whofe fibres run in pa- 
 rallel lines, that is the mofl ufeful in bearing 
 burdens : but that whofe (mews are twifled, 
 and fpirally combined. This too is the mofl 
 picturefque. Trees under thefe circumflances, 
 generally take the mofl pleafing forms. 
 
 Now the oak perhaps acquires thefe dif- 
 ferent modes of growth from the different 
 flrata, through which it pafTes. In deep rich 
 foils, where the root meets no obstruction, the 
 
 flem,
 
 ( 28 ) 
 
 ftem, we fuppofe, grows ftately and erect ; 
 but when the root meets with a rocky ftratum, 
 a hard and gravelly bed, or any other difficulty, 
 through which it is obliged, in a zigzag courfe 
 to pick it's way, and ilruggle for a paffage 5 
 the fympathetic ftem, feeling every motion, 
 purfues the fame indirect courfe above, which 
 the root does below : and thus the fturdy plant, 
 through the means of thefe fubterraneous in- 
 counters, and hardy conflicts, afliimes form and 
 character, and becomes, in a due courfe of 
 centuries, a picturefque tree, 
 
 Virgil has given us the picture of an oak, 
 in which it's principal charade riftics are well 
 touched, 
 
 Efculus imprimis, quae quantum vertice ad auras 
 
 Whereas, tantum radice in Tartara tendit. 
 
 Ergo non hiemes illam, non flabra, neque imbres 
 
 Convellunt : immota manet, multofque per annos 
 
 Multa virum volvens durandp fecula vincit. 
 
 Turn fortes late ramos, et brachia tendens 
 
 Hue illuc, media ipfa ingentem fuftinet umbram*. 
 
 I mall not enter into a criticifm on the 
 word efculus, which cannot on any good 
 authority, I believe, fignify the beech ; and 
 
 Georg. II, 290. 
 
 Pliny's
 
 Pliny's authority, which I infert below*, may 
 be decifive in favour of it's being the oak. 
 But were it not fo, Virgil's defcription is fo 
 ftrongly marked with the character of the oak, 
 that it feems to put the matter out of difpute; 
 and I introduce the quotation, merely to bring 
 together, in a few words, the moft obvious 
 qualities of this mofl noble plant, in one point 
 of view. 
 
 The firft characteriflic, which Virgil men- 
 tions, is it's firmnefs ; or the power and 
 Strength, with which it takes hold of the 
 ground; driving it's tap-root, in the poet's 
 
 * Pliny fpeaking of the different kinds of trees, which were 
 dedicated to different deities, tells us, Jovi efculus, Appoloni 
 laurus, &c. Lib. xii. c. i. Now we know that the oak was 
 Jupiter's tree. On this point I need only quote Phaedrus. 
 
 Olim quas vellent efle in tutela fua 
 
 Divi legerunt arbores; quercus Jovi, 
 
 Et myrtus Veneri placuit 
 
 Pliny alfo in another place, Lib. xvi. c. 6. plainly Uiftinguiflies 
 between thefagus, and the efculus. " Fagi glans triangula cute 
 includitur. Folium tenue, populo fimile, celerrime flavefcens, 
 &c. Glandem, quae proprie intelligitur, ferunt robur, quercus, 
 efculus. Continetur hiipido calyce. Folia, fmuofa lateribus; 
 nee, cum cadunt, flavefcentia, ut fagi. Glans optima in quercu, 
 et grandiflima; mox efculo." From this quotation it is plain, 
 that Pliny confiders the efcvlus as a variety of the oak. 
 
 language,
 
 ( 30 ) 
 
 language, even into the infernal regions. No 
 tree refifts the blaft fo fteadily. We feldom 
 fee the oak, like other trees, take a twitted 
 form from the winds. Media ipfa ingentem 
 fuftinet umbram : that is, I apprehend, it pre- 
 ferves it's balance ; which we have feen is one 
 of the grand pifturefque beauties of every tree. 
 The oak, no doubt, like other trees, {brinks 
 from the fea-air. But this indicates no weak- 
 nefs. The fea-air, like a peftilential difeafe, 
 attacks the ftrongeft conflitutions. It a&s by 
 injuring the early bud, which deftroys the 
 fpray ; and of courfe, the branch. 
 
 A fecond charafteriftic of the oak, of which 
 Virgil takes notice, is the Jloutnefs of it's limbs - y 
 it's fortes ramos. We know no tree, except 
 perhaps the cedar of Lebanon, fo remarkable 
 in this refpecT:. The limbs of moft trees fpring 
 from the trunk. In the oak they may be 
 rather faid to divide from it ; for they generally 
 carry with them a great mare of the fubftance 
 of the ftem. You often fcarcely know, which 
 is ftem, and which is branch j and towards the 
 top, the ftem is entirely loft in the branches. 
 This gives particular property to the epithet 
 fortes in characterizing the branches of the 
 oak ; and hence it's finewy elbows are of fuch 
 
 peculiar
 
 ( 3' ) 
 
 peculiar ufe in (hip-building. Whoever there- 
 fore does not mark the fortes ramos of the oak, 
 might as well in painting a Hercules, omit 
 his mufcles. But I fpeak only of the hardy 
 veterans of the foreft. In the effeminate nurf- 
 lings of the grove we have not this appearance. 
 There the tree is all ftem, drawn up into 
 height. When we characterize a tree, we 
 confider it in it's natural ftate, infulated, and 
 without any lateral preflure. In a foreft, trees 
 naturally grow in that manner. The feniors 
 deprefs all the juniors, that attempt to rife 
 near them. But in a planted grove all grow 
 up together ; and none can exert any power 
 over another. 
 
 The next characteriftic of the oak taken 
 notice of by the poet, is the twifting of it's 
 branches : brachia tendit hie illuc. Examine 
 the am, the elm, the beech, or almoft any 
 other tree , and you may obferve, in what 
 direct, and ftrait lines, the branches in each 
 (hoot from the ftem. Whereas the limbs of 
 an oak are continually twifting hue illuc, in 
 various contortions \ and like the courfe of 
 a river fport and play in every poflible di- 
 rection ; fometimes in long reaches, and 
 fometimes in fhorter elbows. There is not 
 
 a.cha-
 
 ( 32 ) 
 
 a characteriflic more peculiar to the oak, 
 than this. 
 
 Another peculiarity, of which Virgil takes 
 notice in the oak, is it's expanfive fpread. 
 
 Media ipfa ingentem fuftinet umbram. 
 
 By ingentem umbram, I do not fuppofe the 
 poet means a thick, compact, clofe-woven 
 foliage, like that of the beech, which the oak 
 feldom exhibits. In general, except in very 
 luxuriant foils, the foliage of the oak is light, 
 and thin. I mould therefore fuppofe, that 
 inftead of c/ofe-ivoven made, the poet means 
 an extended one ; which indeed is implied in 
 the expremon, juft before ufed, ramos late 
 tendens. This indeed is a juft characteriftic 
 of the oak ; for it's boughs, however twirled, 
 continually take a horizontal direction, and 
 overfhadow a large fpace of ground. Indeed, 
 where it is fond of it's fituation, and has room 
 to fpread, it extends itfelf beyond any other 
 tree ; and like a monarch takes porTeffion of 
 the foil. 
 
 The laft Virgilian characteriftic of the oak 
 is it's longevity, which extends, I fuppofe, 
 beyond that of any other tree. 
 
 Multa virum volvens durando fecula vincit. 
 
 Perhaps
 
 ( 33 ) 
 
 Perhaps the yew may be an exception. I men- 
 tion the circumftance of it's longevity as it is of 
 a nature iingularly picturefque. It is through 
 age, that the oak acquires it's greateft beauty ; 
 which often continues increafing even into de- 
 cay, if any proportion exift between the ftem, 
 and the branches. When the branches rot 
 away, and the forlorn trunk is left alone, the 
 tree is in it's decrepitude the laft ftage of life ; 
 and all beauty is gone. 
 
 To fuch an oak, Lucan compares Pompey 
 in his declining ftate. 
 
 Stat magni nominis umbra. 
 
 Quails frugifero quercus fublimi in agro 
 Exuvias veteres populi, facrataque geftans 
 Dona ducum; nee jam validis radicibus haerens, 
 Pondere fixa fuo eft, nudofque per acra ramos 
 Effimdens, trunco, non frondibus efficit umbram. 
 
 Spenfer hath given us the fame pi&ure ; but 
 with a few more circumftances. 
 
 " A huge oak, dry and dead 
 
 Still clad with reliques of it's trophies old, 
 Lifting to heaven it's aged, hoary head, 
 Whofe foot on earth hath got but feeble hold, 
 And half diibowelled ftands above the ground, 
 
 With wreathed roots, and naked arms, 
 
 And trunk all rotten, and unfound. 
 
 VOL. i. D I have
 
 ( 34 ) 
 
 I have dwelt the longer on the oak, as it is 
 confefledly both the moft pidurefque tree in 
 itfelf; and the moft accommodating in compo- 
 lition. It refufes no fubject either in natural, 
 or in artificial landfcape. It is fuited to the 
 grandeft; and may with propriety be intro- 
 duced into the moft paftoral. It adds new 
 dignity to the ruined tower, and Gothic arch : 
 by ftretching it's wild, mofs-grown branches 
 athwart their ivyed-walls it gives them a kind 
 of majefty coeval with itfelf: at the fame time 
 it's propriety is ftill preferved, if it throw it's 
 arms over the purling brook, or the mantling 
 pool, where it beholds 
 
 It's reverend image in the expanfe below. 
 
 Milton introduces it happily even in the loweft 
 fcene. 
 
 Hard by a cottage chimney fmokes 
 From between two aged oaks. 
 
 After the oak, let us examine the am. 
 This tree in point of utility, is little inferior 
 to the oak. It's ufes are infinite. To the 
 amen fpear the heroes of antiquity were in- 
 debted
 
 ( 35 ) 
 
 debted for half their prowefs. In the arts 
 of peace as well as of war, in architecture, 
 tillage, and manufactures, the a(h objects to 
 bufinefs of no kind : while even it's very refufe 
 fpars are accounted the beft fuel in the foreft*. 
 The afhen billet produces a fteady, bright, 
 lambent flame ; and as Mr. Evelin tells us, 
 may be reckoned among the OMOL^VU. uA, fuel 
 with little fmoke. 
 
 I have fometimes heard the oak called the 
 Hercules of the foreft j and the am, the Venus. 
 The comparifon is not amifs : for the oak 
 joins the idea of ftrength to beauty : while 
 the am rather joins the ideas of beauty, and 
 elegance. Virgil marks the character of the 
 am, as particularly beautiful. 
 
 Fraxinus in fylvis pulcherrima 
 
 The am generally carries it's principal ftem 
 higher than the oak -, and rifes in an eafy, 
 flowing line. But it's chief beauty confifts 
 in the lightnefs of it's whole appearance. It's 
 branches at firft keep clofe to the trunk, and 
 
 * In fome parts of the continent of Europe the afhen billet fells 
 for one half more than any other wood, except beech. 
 
 D 2 form
 
 ( 36 ) 
 
 form acute angles with it : but as they begin 
 to lengthen, they generally take an eafy fweep ; 
 and the loofenefs of the leaves correfponding 
 with the lightnefs of the fpray, the whole 
 forms an elegant depending foliage. Nothing 
 can have a better effect, than an old afh, 
 hanging from the corner of a wood, and bring- 
 ing off the heavinefs of the other foliage, with 
 it's loofe pendent branches. And yet in fome 
 foils, I have feen the afh lofe much of it's 
 beauty in the decline of age. It's foliage 
 becomes rare, and meagre ; and it's branches, 
 inftead of hanging loofely, often ftart away in 
 difagreeable forms. In fhort, the afh often 
 lofes that grandeur and beauty in old age, 
 which the generality of trees, and particularly 
 the oak, preferve, till a late period of their 
 exiftence. 
 
 The afh alfo, on another account, falls 
 under the difpleafure of the picturefque eye. 
 It's leaf is much tenderer, than that of the 
 oak, and fooner receives impreffion from the 
 winds, and froft. Inftead of contributing it's 
 tint therefore in the wane of the year among 
 the many-coloured offspring of the woods, 
 it fhrinks from the blaft, drops it's leaf, and 
 in each fcene where it predominates, leaves 
 
 wide
 
 ( 37 ) 
 
 wide blanks of defolated boughs, amidft foliage 
 yet frejfh, and verdant. Before it's decay, we 
 fometimes fee it's leaf tinged with a fine yellow, 
 well contrafted with the neighbouring greens. 
 But this is one of nature's cafual beauties. 
 Much oftener it's leaf decays in a dark, muddy, 
 unpleafing tint. And yet fometimes, notwith- 
 ftanding this early lofs of it's foliage, we fee 
 the am, in a flickered fituation, when the 
 rains have been abundant, and the feafon mild, 
 retain it's green, (a light pleafant green) when 
 the oak and the elm, in it's neighbourhood, 
 have put on their autumnal attire. 
 
 Another difagreeable circumftance attends 
 the am, which is indeed it's misfortune, rather 
 than it's fault. It's leaf and rind are nutritrive 
 to deer ; and much ufed in browzing them 
 in fummer. The keepers of the foreft there- 
 fore feek out all the am- trees they can find, 
 which are for this purpofe mangled, and de- 
 formed. 
 
 One thing more I mould mention with 
 regard to the am, as it is of picturefque na- 
 ture, and that is the beauty of it's roots, 
 which are often finely veined, and will take 
 a good polifh. Dr. Plot, in his natural hiftory 
 D 3 of
 
 ( 38 ) 
 
 of Oxfordfhire*, fpeaks of certain knotty ex- 
 crefcences in the afh, called the brufca y and 
 mollufca, which when cut, and polifhed, are 
 very beautiful. He particularly mentions a 
 dining table, made of the latter, which repre- 
 fents the exact figure of a fifh. 
 
 With regard to thefe exaft figures of animals, 
 and other objects, which we meet with both 
 in flone, and wood, I cannot fay I mould 
 value them much as objects of beauty. They 
 may be whimfical, and curious ; but in my 
 opinion, the roots, and veins of wood, and 
 ftone, are much more beautiful, when they 
 are wreathed in different fantaftic forms ; 
 than when they feem to aim at any exatf 
 figures. In the former cafe they leave the 
 imagination at liberty to play among them ; 
 which is always a plealing exercife to it : 
 in the latter, they are at befl awkward, and 
 unnatural likeneffes , which often difguft the 
 picturefque eye ; and always pleafe it lefs, 
 
 than following it's own fancy, and picking 
 
 out refemblances of it's own. 
 
 Another curiofity in the afh, which is 
 
 likewife of the picturefque kind, is a fort of 
 
 * Chap. vi. fee. So. 
 
 excrefcence,
 
 ( 39 ) 
 
 excrefcence, which is fometimes found on a 
 leading branch, called a wreathed faf da. The 
 fafciated branch is twifted, and curled in a 
 very beautiful form; which form it probably 
 takes, as Dr. Plot fuppofes, from too quick 
 an afcent of the fap* : or as other naturalifts 
 imagine, from the pun&ure of fome infect in 
 the tender twig, which diverts the fap from 
 it's ufual channel, and makes the branch 
 monftrous. The wreathed fafcia is fometimes 
 found in other wood, in the willow parti- 
 cularly, and in the holly ; but moft commonly 
 it is an excrefcence of the am. I have a 
 fafciated branch of am, found in the woods 
 of Beaulieu in new-foreft, which is moft 
 elegantly twifted in the form of a crozier. 
 I have feen a holly alfo twifted like a ram's 
 horn. We have this appearance fometimes in 
 afparagus. 
 
 It is not uncommon for the feeds of 
 trees, and particularly of the am, to feize 
 on fome faulty part of a neighbouring trunk, 
 and there ftrike root. Dr. Plot-j- fpeaks of 
 
 * See Nat. hift. Oxf. ch. vi. fee. 82. 
 t See Nat. hift. Oxf. ch. vi. fee. 79. 
 
 D 4 apiece
 
 ( 4 ) 
 
 a piece of vegetable violence of this kind, 
 which is rather extraordinary. An afli-key 
 rooting itfelf on a decayed willow , and find- 
 ing, as it increafed, a deficiency of nourishment 
 in the mother-plant, it began to infinuate it's 
 fibres by degrees through the trunk of the 
 willow into the earth. There receiving an 
 additional recruit, it began to thrive, and 
 expand itfelf to fuch a fize, that it burft the 
 willow in pieces, which fell away from it on 
 every fide -, and what was before the root of 
 the am, being now expofed to the air, became 
 the folid trunk of a vigorous tree. 
 
 As a beautiful variety of the tree we are 
 now examining, the mountain- aft:, often called 
 the roan-tree, mould be mentioned. It's name 
 denotes the place of it's ufual reiidence^ 
 Inured to cold, and rugged fcenes, it is the 
 hardy inhabitant of the northern parts of this 
 ifland. Sometimes it is found in fofter climes - y 
 but there it generally difcovers by it's {hinted 
 growth, that it does not occupy the fituation 
 it loves. 
 
 In ancient days, when fuperftition held that 
 place in fociety, which diflipation, and impiety 
 now hold, the mountain-am was conlidered 
 as an object of great veneration. Often at 
 
 this
 
 this day a flump of it is found in fome old 
 burying place ; or near the circle of a Druid 
 temple, whofe rites it formerly inverted with 
 it's facred fhade. It's chief merit now confifts 
 in being the ornament of landfcape. In the 
 Scotim highlands it becomes a confiderable 
 tree. There on fome rocky mountain covered 
 with dark pines, and waving birch which 
 cart a folemn gloom over the lake below, a 
 few mountain-allies joining in a clump, and 
 mixing with them, have a fine effect. In 
 fummer, the light green tint of their foliage 5 
 and in autumn, the glowing berries, which 
 hang cluttering upon them, contrail beauti- 
 fully with the deeper green of the pines ; 
 and if they are happily blended ; and not in 
 too large a proportion, they add fome of the 
 moft picturefque furniture, with which the 
 fides of thofe rugged mountains are inverted. 
 
 After the oak, and am, we examine the 
 elm. The oak and the a{h have each a diftinct 
 character. The mafly form of the one, di- 
 viding into abrupt, twifting, irregular limbs, 
 yet compact in it's foliage -, and the eafy fweep 
 of the other, the fimplicity of it's branches, 
 
 and
 
 ( 42 ) 
 
 and the loofenefs of it's hanging leaves, cha- 
 racterize both thefe trees with fo much pre- 
 cifion, that at any diftance, at which the eye 
 can diftinguifh the form, it may alfo diftin- 
 guifh the difference. The elm has not fo dif- 
 tinct a character. It partakes fo much of 
 the oak -, that when it is rough, and old, it 
 may eafily, at a little diftance, be miftaken 
 for one : tho the oak, I mean fuch an oak 
 as is ftrongly marked with it's peculiar cha- 
 racter, can never be miftaken for the elm. 
 This is certainly a defect in the elm ; for 
 ftrong characters are a great fource of pic- 
 turefque beauty. 
 
 This defect however appears chiefly in the 
 Ikeleton of the elm. In full foliage, it's 
 character is better marked. No tree is better 
 adapted to receive grand mafles of light. In 
 this refpect it is fuperior, not only to the oak, 
 and the am, but perhaps to every other tree. 
 Nor is it's foliage, fhadowing as it is, of the 
 heavy kind. It's leaves are fmall, and this 
 gives it a natural lightnefs ; it commonly hangs 
 loofely ; and is in general, very picturefque. 
 
 The elm naturally grows upright; and 
 when it meets with a foil it loves, rifes higher 
 than the generality of trees -, and after it has 
 
 aflumed
 
 ( 43 ) 
 
 aflumed the dignity, and hoary roughnefs of 
 age, few of it's foreft-brethren (tho, properly 
 fpeaking, it is not a forefter) excel it in 
 grandeur, and beauty. 
 
 The elm is the firft tree, that falutes the 
 early fpring with it's light, and cheerful green 
 a tint, which contrafts agreeably with the 
 oak, whofe early leaf has generally more of 
 the olive-caft. We fee them fometimes in 
 fine harmony together, about the end of april, 
 and the beginning of may. We often alfo 
 fee the elm planted with the Scotch fir. In 
 the fpring it's light green is very difcordant 
 with the gloomy hue of it's companion : but 
 as the year advances, the elm-leaf takes a 
 darker tint, and unites in harmony with 
 the fir. In autumn alfo the yellow leaf of 
 the elm mixes as kindly with the orange of 
 the beech, the ocher of the oak, and many 
 of the other fading hues of the wood. 
 
 A fpecies of this tree, called the wich-elm, 
 is perhaps generally more pi<Sturefque, than the 
 common fort, at leaft on a fore-ground, as it 
 hangs more negligently : tho, at the fame time, 
 with this negligence, it lofes in a good degree, 
 that happy furface for catching mafles of light, 
 which we admire in the common elm, and 
 
 which
 
 ( 44 ) 
 
 which adapts it better to a diftance. We 
 obferve alfo, when we fee this tree in company 
 with the common elm, that it's bark is fome- 
 what of a lighter hue. The wich-elm is 
 a native of Scotland, where it is found not 
 only in the plains, and vallies of the low- 
 lands ; but is hardy enough to climb the 
 fteeps, and flourim in the remoteft highlands : 
 tho it does not attain, in thofe climates, the 
 fize, which it attains in England. Naturalifts 
 fuppofe the wich-elm to be the only fpecies 
 of this tree, which is indigenous to our ifland. 
 
 There is another variety alfo of this tree, 
 called the weeping elm. Whether it's timber 
 is lefs ufeful, or it is propagated with greater 
 difficulty, I know not ; but I have rarely met 
 with it. The fmeft of this fpecies I have feen, 
 grow in St. John's walks at Cambridge. An 
 eye accuftomed to the tree, will eafily perceive 
 that it's branches are more penfile, and it's 
 leaves of fmaller dimeniions, than thofe of the 
 common elm. 
 
 An old elm, which grew formerly in the 
 grove at Magdalen college in Oxford, was by 
 fome accident difbarked entirely round. A 
 malady of this kind is generally reckoned fatal 
 to all the vegetable race. But this tree 
 
 flourished
 
 ( 45 ) 
 
 flourifhed after it, as well as any tree in the 
 grove. The probable reafons of this uncom- 
 mon appearance are given us by the learned 
 author of the natural hiftory of Oxfordfhire, 
 in a long philofophical enquiry, which may be 
 found in the i66th page of that work. I have 
 heard alfo, but I know not on what authority, 
 of another difbarked elm, growing at this time, 
 vigoroufly at Kenfington. 
 
 The oak, the am, and the elm, are com- 
 monly dignified, in our Englifh woods, as a 
 diftinct clafs, by the title of timber- trees. But 
 the picturefque eye fcorns the narrow concep- 
 tions of a timber- merchant ; and with equal 
 complacency takes in the whole offspring of 
 the wood: tho it muft be owned, the three 
 fpecies already characterized, are both the moft 
 ufeful, and the moft picturefque. We efteem 
 it fortunate, when the idea of picturefque 
 beauty coincides with that of utility, as the 
 two ideas are often at variance. 
 
 After timber-trees, the beech deferves our 
 notice. Some indeed rank the beech among 
 timber-trees ; but, I believe in general it does 
 
 not
 
 ( 46 ) 
 
 not find that refpeft ; as it's wood is of a foft, 
 fpungy nature ; fappy, and alluring to the 
 worm. And yet I have heard, that it has 
 lately been found to anfwer as well, as elm, 
 in forming the keels, ftems, and ftern-pofts 
 of the largeft (hips. 
 
 In point of picturefque beauty I am not 
 inclined to rank the beech much higher, than 
 in point of utility. It's ikeleton, compared 
 with that of the trees we have juft examined, 
 is very deficient. It's trunks, we allow, is often 
 highly pifturefque. It is ftudded with bold 
 knobs and projections ; and has fometimes a 
 fort of irregular fluting about it, which is 
 very characteriftic. It has another peculiarity 
 alfo, which is fometimes pleafing ; that of a 
 number of ftems arifing from the root. The 
 bark too wears often a pleafant hue. It is 
 naturally of a dingy olive ; but it is always 
 overfpread, in patches, with a variety of 
 rnofles, and lychens, which are commonly of 
 a lighter tint, in the upper parts ; and of a 
 deep velvet-green towards the root. It's 
 fmoothnefs alfo contrafts agreeably with thefe 
 rougher appendages. No bark tempts the 
 lover fo much to make it the depofitory of 
 
 his
 
 ( 47 ) 
 
 his miftrefs's name. It conveys a happy 
 emblem : 
 
 crefcent illae ; crefcetis amores. 
 
 But having praifed the trunk, we can praife 
 no other part of the fkeleton. The branches 
 are fantaftically wreathed, and difproportioned ; 
 twining awkwardly among each other; and 
 running often into long unvaried lines, without 
 any of that ftrength and firmnefs, which we 
 admire in the oak ; or of that eafy fimplicity 
 which pleafes in the am : in fhort, we rarely 
 fee a beech well ramified. In full leaf it is 
 equally unpleafing; it has the appearance of 
 an overgrown bum. Virgil indeed was right 
 in chufing the beech for it's made. No tree 
 forms fo complete a roof. If you wifh either 
 for made, or fhelter, you will find it beft 
 
 -patulae fub tegmine fagi. 
 
 This bufhinefs gives a great heavinefs to 
 the tree ; which is always a deformity. What 
 lightnefs it has, difgufts. You will fome- 
 times fee a light branch ifluing from a heavy 
 mafs : and tho fuch pendent branches are often 
 beautiful in themfelves -, they are feldom in 
 harmony with the tree. They diftinguifh 
 
 however
 
 ( 48 ) 
 
 however it's character, which will be feen 
 beft by comparing it with the elm. The elm 
 forms a rounder -, the beech a more pointed 
 foliage. But the former is always in harmony 
 with itfelf. 
 
 On the whole, the .mafly, full-grown, 
 luxuriant beech is rather a difplealing tree. 
 It is made up of littlenefs ; feldom exhibiting 
 thofe tufted cups, or hollow dark recefTes, 
 which diipart the feveral grand branches of 
 the more beautiful kinds of trees. Sometimes 
 however, we fee in beeches of happy com- 
 pofition the foliage falling in large flakes, or 
 layers, between which the ihadows have a 
 forcible effeft, when the tree is ftrongly il- 
 lumined. 
 
 Contrary to the general nature of trees, the 
 beech is moft pleafing in it's juvenile ftate ; as 
 it has not yet acquired that heavinefs, which 
 is it's moft faulty diftinftion. A light, airy, 
 young beech, with it's fpiry branches, hang- 
 ing, as I have juft defcribed them in eafy 
 forms, is often beautiful. I have feen alfo 
 the foreft-beech, in a dry, hungry foil, pre- 
 ferve the lightnefs of youth, in the maturity 
 of age. 
 
 After
 
 ( 49 ) 
 
 After all however, we mean not to repudiate 
 even the heavy, luxuriant beech in pi&urefque 
 compofition. It has fometimes it's beauty, 
 and oftener it's ufe. In diftance it preferves 
 the depth of the foreft* ; and even on the 
 fpot, in contraft, it is frequently a choice 
 accompaniment. In the corner of a landfcape, 
 when we want a thick heavy tree, or part 
 of one at leaft, which is often necefTary, 
 nothing anfwers our purpofe like the beech. 
 But at prefent we are not confidering the beech 
 in compofition ; but only as an individual -, 
 and in this light it is, in which we chiefly con- 
 ceive it as an objedt of difapprobation. 
 
 We mould not conclude our remarks on 
 the beech without mentioning it's autumnal 
 hues. In this refpecl: it is often beautiful. 
 Sometimes it is drefled in modeft brown ; but 
 generally in glowing orange : and in both 
 drefles it's harmony with the grove, is pleafing. 
 About the end of feptember, when the leaf 
 begins to change, it makes a happy contraft 
 with the oak, whofe foliage is yet verdant. 
 
 * We call the foreft deep, when we cannot fee through it ; fo 
 that at a diftance a thin wood of beeches will have the effeft 
 of a large one. 
 
 VOL. i. E Some
 
 ( 5 ) 
 
 Some of the fineft oppofitions of tint, which 
 perhaps the foreft can furnifh, arife from the 
 union of oak, and beech. We often fee a 
 wonderful effect from this combination. And 
 yet accommodating as it's leaf is in landfcape, 
 on handling, it feels as if it were fabricated 
 with metallic rigour. In it's autumnal ftate 
 it almoft crackles : 
 
 Leni crepitabat braftea vento. 
 
 For this reafon, I fuppofe, as it's rigour gives 
 it an elaftic quality, the common people in 
 France, and Switzerland ufe it for their beds. 
 
 I have dwelt the longer on the beech, as 
 notwithftanding my fe verity, it is a tree of 
 picturefque fame ; and I did not chufe to 
 condemn, without giving my reafons. It has 
 acquired it's reputation, I fuppofe, chiefly from 
 it's having a peculiar character ; and this, with 
 all it's defects, it certainly has. I may add 
 alfo, that if objects receive merit from their 
 affociated, as well as from their intrinfic 
 qualities, the dry foil, and falubrious air, in 
 which the beech generally flourishes, give it 
 a high degree of eftimation. 
 
 Nearly
 
 Nearly allied to the beech in a pidurefque 
 light, is the horn-beam. It grows like it, 
 when it is fuffered to grow ; but it is gene- 
 rally feen only in clipped hedges, where it 
 is obedient to the knife - y and with a little care 
 will never prefume to appear out of form. It's 
 wood is white, tough, and flexible. 
 
 The deciduous trees, which I have de- 
 (bribed, hold certainly the firft rank. I mall 
 however touch on a few others, which tho 
 neither fo beautiful, nor fo characterifKc, are 
 however worth the notice of the pi&urefque 
 eye. 
 
 Among thefe the firil place is due to two 
 noble trees of the fame kind, both naturalized 
 in England tho from different extremes of the 
 globe the occidental and the oriental plane. 
 
 The occldenfal plane is a native of America ; 
 but has long been known in England ; where 
 it attains a conflderable growth ; tho inferior, 
 no doubt, to what it attains in it's native foil. 
 It's ftem is very pi&urefque. It is fmooth, 
 and of a light afh-colour; and has the pro- 
 perty of throwing off it's bark in fcales; thus 
 E 2 naturally
 
 ( 5* ) 
 
 naturally cleanfing itfelf, at leafl it's larger 
 boughs, from mofs, and other parafitical 
 incumbrances. This would be no recom- 
 mendation of it in a pi&urefque light, if the 
 removal of thefe incumbrances did not fub- 
 ftitute as great a beauty in their room. Thefe 
 fcales are very irregular 3 falling off fometimes 
 in one part ; and fometimes in another : and as 
 the under bark, immediately after excoriation, 
 is of a lighter hue than the upper, it offers 
 to the pencil thofe fmart touches, which 
 have fo much effecl: in painting. Thefe flakes 
 however would be more beautiful, if they fell 
 off more in femi-circular laminae. They would 
 correfpond, and unite better with the circular 
 form of the bole. 
 
 No tree forms a more pleafing made than 
 the occidental plane. It is full-leafed, and it's 
 leaf is large, fmooth, of a fine texture, and 
 feldom injured by infects. It's lower branches 
 mooting horizontally, foon take a direction to 
 the ground ; and the fpray feems more fedulous, 
 than that of any tree we have, by twitting 
 about in various forms, to fill up every little 
 vacuity with (hade. At the fame time, it 
 muft be owned, the twifling of it's branches 
 is a difadvantage to this tree, as we have juft 
 obferved it is to the beech, when it is ftripped 
 
 of
 
 ( S3 ) 
 
 of it's leaves, and reduced to a fkeleton. It 
 has not the natural appearance, which the 
 fpray of the oak, and that of many other trees 
 difcovers in winter : tho I have heard, that 
 in America, where it grows naturally, it grows 
 more freely ; and does not exhibit that twifting in 
 it's branches. It's foliage, from the largenefs of 
 the leaf, and the mode of it's growth, does 
 not make the moft pi&urefque appearance. 
 One of the fineft occidental planes I am 
 acquainted with, tho I have heard of larger, 
 ftands in the vicarage-garden at Vicar's-hill; 
 where it's boughs, feathering to the ground, 
 form a canopy of above fifty feet in diameter. 
 
 The oriental plane is a tree nearly of the 
 fame kind, only it's leaf is more palmated ; nor 
 has it fo great a difpofition to overfhadow the 
 ground, as the occidental plane. At leaft I 
 never faw any in our climate form fo noble a 
 made ; tho in the eaft, it is e deemed among 
 the moft fhady, and moft magnificent of trees. 
 Lady Craven fpeaks of fome me faw in the 
 Turkifh dominions of a fize fo gigantic, that 
 the largeft trees we have in England placed 
 near them, would appear only like broom- 
 E 3 fticks.
 
 ( 54 ) 
 
 fticks*. In Italy a very noble collection of them 
 form the avenue to the convent of Grotta-Fer- 
 rata, near Frafcati, which is faid to occupy 
 the exact fite of Tully's Tufculan villa, about 
 twelve miles from Rome, on the Alban hill. 
 The tree at the end of the avenue, fartheft from 
 the convent, and clofe to a plentiful fpring, ex- 
 ceeds the reft in lize, and beauty. This con- 
 vent is often vifited for the fake of a picture by 
 Dominichino. 
 
 The oriental plane I believe fheds it's bark 
 like the occidental ; and the catkins of both are 
 round, fpicated balls, about the fize of wal- 
 nuts 'j and fattened together often in pairs, 
 like chain-mot. From this circumftance, the 
 occidental plane is called in America, the 
 button- tree. It flourifhes there commonly by 
 the fides of creeks, and rivers, and is of quick 
 growth. The oriental plane, I believe, loves 
 the fame foil : at lead both trees in England 
 are fond of moift ground. 
 
 Kempfer tells us-)-, that at Jedo the capital 
 of Japan, he found a fpecies of this tree, 
 the leaves of which were beautifully variegated, 
 
 * Letter 4;. } See p. 524. 
 
 like
 
 ( 55 ) 
 
 like the tricolor, with red, green, and yellow. 
 An appearance of this kind is fo contrary to 
 nature's ufual mode of colouring the leaves 
 of foreft-trees ; that I mould rather fufpect, 
 Kempfer faw it, either when the leaves were 
 in the wane, or blafted, or in fome other un- 
 natural ftate. 
 
 I may add, with regard to the occidental 
 plane; and indeed, I believe, with regard to 
 both the trees of this fpecies, that their fum- 
 mer leaf wears fo light a hue, as to mix 
 ill with the foliage of the oak, the elm, and 
 other trees. I have feen them on the ikirts 
 of a plantation, forming, during the fummer, 
 a difagreeable fpot. In autumn, their leaves 
 receive a mellow tint, which harmonizes very 
 well with the waning colours of the wood I 
 have heard of other varieties of thefe foreign 
 planes j but if there are, I am unacquainted 
 with them. 
 
 One lingularity of this tree may be men- 
 tioned, which I believe runs through all it's 
 varieties. The ftem of every leaf forms, at it's 
 infertion into the fpray, a little calix, or cup, 
 which covers, and defends the bud of the 
 fucceeding year. In autumn you eafily difcover 
 it by pulling off a decaying leaf. 
 
 E 4 The
 
 The poplar tribe mall be conlidered next. 
 They are numerous, and fome of them pic- 
 turefque. They are at leaft ftately trees : but 
 their thin quivering foliage is neither adapted 
 to catch mafles of light, like that of the elm ; 
 nor has it the hanging lightnefs of the am. 
 It's chief ufe in landfcape is to mix as a variety, 
 in contrail with other trees. 
 
 Within thefe few years the Lombardy-pop- 
 lar, which graces the banks of the Po, has 
 been much introduced in Englifh plantations. 
 It feems to like a Britifh foil ; and it's youth is 
 promising : but I have never feen it in full 
 maturity. It's conic form as a deciduous tree, 
 is peculiar. Among evergreens we find the 
 fame character in the cyprefs ; and both trees 
 in many fituations have a good effect. The 
 cyprefs often, among the ruins of ancient 
 Rome, breaks the regularity of a wall, or a 
 pediment by it's conic form : and the poplar on 
 the banks of the Po, no doubt has the fame effect 
 among it's deciduous brethren, by forming the 
 apex of a clump : tho I have been told that, 
 in it's age, it lofes it's mape in fome degree, 
 and fpreads more into a head. The oldeft 
 
 poplars
 
 ( 57 ) 
 
 poplars of this kind I have feen, are at 
 Blenheim. They are not old trees; but are very 
 tall ; and, I believe ftill preferve their fpiry form. 
 One beauty the Italian poplar poffeffes, 
 which is almoft peculiar to itfelf; and that 
 is the waving line it forms, when prefled by 
 wind. Moft trees in this circumftance are 
 partially agitated. One fide is at reft ; while 
 the other, is in motion. But the Italian pop- 
 lar waves in one iimple fweep from the top 
 to the bottom, like an oftrich-feather on a 
 lady's head. All the branches coincide in 
 the motion : and the leaft blaft makes an 
 impreffion upon it, when other trees are at 
 reft. I mentioned, among the adventitious 
 beauties of trees, \ht\ifufceptibility of motion*: 
 but in painting I know not, that I mould 
 reprefent any kind of motion in a tree, ex- 
 cept that of a violent ftorm. When the 
 blaft is loud, and boifterous ; when the black 
 heavens are in unifon with it, and help to tell 
 the ftory, an oak {training in the wind, is 
 an objedt of picturefque beauty. But when 
 the gentle breezes, pre fling upon the quiver- 
 
 See page ai. 
 
 ing
 
 ing poplar, bends it only in eafy motion, while 
 a ferene fky indicates the heavens to be at 
 peace, there is nothing to ad in concert with 
 the motion of the tree: it feems to have 
 taken it's form from the influence of a fea air, 
 or fome other malign impremon; and ex- 
 hibiting an unnatural appearance, difgufts. 
 One thing more I mould mention with regard 
 to the Italian poplar, which is, that altho it 
 fometimes has a good effect, when {landing 
 lingle ; it generally has a better, when two or 
 three are planted in a group. 
 
 The walnut is not an unpi&urefque tree. 
 The warm, ruffet hue of it's young foliage 
 makes a pleating variety among the vivid green 
 of other trees, about the end of may : and 
 the fame variety is maintained in fummer, by 
 the contraft of it's yellowifh hue, when mixed 
 in any quantity, with trees of a darker tint : 
 but it opens it's leaves fo late, and drops them 
 fo early, that it cannot long be in harmony 
 with the grove. It ftands beft alone ; and 
 the early lofs of it's foliage is of the lefs 
 confequence, as it's ramification is generally 
 beautiful. 
 
 The
 
 ( 59 ) 
 
 
 The lime is an elegant tree, where it is 
 fuffered to grow at large: but we generally 
 fee it in a ftrait bondage, clipped into hape, 
 and forming the fides of avenues, and viftas. 
 But in it's beft ftate it is not very interefting. It 
 has a uniformity of furface, without any of 
 thofe breaks, and hollows, which the mod 
 picturefque trees prefent ; and which give 
 their foliage fo much beauty. One circum- 
 ftance however mould recommend the lime 
 to all lovers of the imitative arts. No wood is 
 fo eafily formed under the carver's chifTel. It 
 is the wood, which the ingenious Gibbon ufed, 
 after making trial of feveral kinds, as the 
 moft proper for that curious fculpture, which 
 adorns fome of the old houfes of our nobility. 
 
 The maple is an uncommon tree, tho a 
 common bum. It's wood is of little value j 
 and it is therefore rarely fuffered to increafe. 
 We feldom fee it employed in any nobler fer- 
 vice, than in filling up it's part in a hedge, 
 in company with thorns, and briars, and other 
 ditch trumpery. Yet the ancients held it in 
 
 great
 
 ( 60 ) 
 
 great repute. Pliny * fpeaks as highly of the 
 knobs, and excrefcences of this tree, called the 
 brufca and mollufca, as Dr. Plot does of thofe 
 of the amf . The veins of thefe excrefcences 
 in the maple, Pliny tells us, were fo variegated, 
 that they exceeded the beauty of any other 
 wood -, even of the citron : tho the citron was 
 in fuch repute at Rome, that Cicero, who was 
 neither rich, or expenli ve, was tempted to give 
 ten thoufand fefterces for a citron table. The 
 brufca and mollufca, Pliny adds, were rarely of 
 fize fufficient for the larger fpecies of furniture - t 
 but in all fmaller cabinet-work they were in- 
 cftimable. But indeed the whole tree was 
 efteemed by the ancients, on account of it's 
 variegated wood. In Ovid we find it thus 
 celebrated : 
 
 -acerque coloribus impar %. 
 
 How far at this day, it may be valued for 
 cabinet-work, I know not. I have, here and 
 there, feen boxes, and other little things made 
 of it, which I have thought beautiful. But I 
 
 * See Plin. Nat. hift.lib. xvi. ch. 16. 
 
 f See page 35 : fee alfo Plin. Nat. hift. lib. xiii. ch. 15. 
 
 t Met. lib. x. v. i. 
 
 am
 
 ( 6i ) 
 
 am told, that in North America, where it 
 grows wild, it is in much efteem. When the 
 cabinet-maker meets with a knotted tree of 
 this kind, which is there called the curled 
 maple, he prizes it highly. 
 
 In the few inftances I have met with of this 
 tree in a ftate of maturity, it's form has ap- 
 peared picturefque. It is not unlike the oak ; 
 but is more bufhy ; and it's branches are clofer, 
 and more compact. One of the largeft maples 
 I have feen, {lands in the church- yard of Bol- 
 dre, in new-forefl : but I have not met with 
 fpecimens enough of this tree to form an opinion 
 of it's general character. 
 
 The great maple, commonly called the 
 fycamore, is a grander, and nobler tree, than 
 the fmaller maple ; but it wants it's elegance : 
 it is coarfe in proportion to it's bulk. It forms 
 however an impenetrable fhade ; and often re- 
 ceives well-contrafted mafles of light. It's 
 bark has not the furrowed roughnefs of the 
 oak ; but it has a fpecies of roughnefs very 
 picture fque. In itfelf, it is fmooth : but it 
 peels off in large flakes, like the planes, (to 
 which in other refpects, it bears a near alliance ) 
 
 leaving
 
 ( 62 ) 
 
 leaving patches of different hues, feams, and 
 cracks, which are often pidurefque. 
 
 The chefnut in maturity and perfection, is a 
 noble tree ; and grows not unlike the oak. It's 
 ramification is more flraggling - y but it is eafy, 
 and it's foliage loofe. This is the tree, which 
 graces the landfcapes of Salvator Rofa. In the 
 mountains of Calabria, where Salvator painted, 
 the chefnut flouriflied. There he ftudied it in 
 all it's forms, breaking and difpofing it in a 
 thoufand beautiful fhapes, as the exigences of 
 his compofition required. I have heard indeed 
 that it is naturally brittle, and liable to be 
 mattered by winds j which might be one 
 reafon for Salvator's attachment to it. But 
 altho I have many times feen the chefnut in 
 England, old enough to be in a fruit-bearing 
 ftate ; yet I have feldom feen it in a ftate of 
 full picturefque maturity. The beft I have feen, 
 ftand on the banks of the Tamer in Cornwall, 
 at an old houfe, belonging to the Edgecumbe 
 family. I have heard alfo that at Beechworth- 
 caftle, in Surry, there are not fewer than feventy 
 or eighty chefnuts, meafuring from twelve to 
 eighteen or twenty feet in girth, and fome of 
 
 them
 
 ( 63 ) 
 
 them of very picturefque form : but I faw 
 them only at a diftance. In Kent alfo the 
 chefhut is frequently found. 
 
 It is faid indeed, that this tree was once 
 very common in England, and that beams of it 
 are often feen at this day, in churches, and 
 old houfes. In the belfry particularly of the 
 church at Sutton, near Mitcham in Surry, . 
 I have feen beams, which are like oak ; yet 
 plainly appear to be of a different kind of 
 timber; and are fuppofed to be chefnut. I 
 have often heard alfo, that the timber of the 
 old houfes of London was of chefnut. 
 Whether this tree was ever indigenous to this 
 country feems to be matter of fpeculation. As 
 it's timber is faid to be ferviceable, and as it's 
 fruit, tho rarely of perfect growth in this climate, 
 might however be of fome ufe ; we are at a 
 lofs to conceive, if it had once gotten footing 
 amongft us, how it mould ever be, as it now 
 is, almoft totally exterminated. Some have 
 endeavoured to account for this, by {hewing, 
 that it is not fo good a timber-tree, as is fup- 
 pofed -, for it decays at the heart ; and will 
 continue decaying, till it become merely a mell, 
 and for this reafon it has been lefs fought after, 
 and encouraged. How far this may be true I 
 
 know
 
 know not. I rather fufpe<ft it's truth*. Some 
 years ago Mr. Daines Barrington read a paper 
 to the royal fociety, in which he endeavoured 
 to prove, that the chefnut was not indigenous 
 to this country. Dr. Ducarel anfwered him, 
 and alledged from ancient records, and other 
 evidences, that chefnut formerly abounded in 
 many woody fcenes in England -, and was cer- 
 tainly a native of this iiland. Among the an- 
 cient records, to which he appeals, one is 
 dated in the time of Henry II. It is a deed of 
 gift from Roger, earl of Hereford, to Flexley 
 abbey, to the tythe of all his chefnuts in the 
 foreft of Deanf. 
 
 The horfe-chefnut is a heavy, difagreeablc 
 tree. It forms it's foliage generally in a round 
 mafs, with little appearance of thofe breaks, 
 which, we have obferved, contribute to give 
 an airinefs and lightnefs, at leaft a richnefs, 
 
 * In the tenth volume of the Tranfaftions of the fociety for the 
 encouragement of arts, &c. fome inftances are given of it's being 
 a very ufeful timber-tree. 
 
 f See four letters on chefnut-trees, read before the royal 
 fociety 1771. 
 
 and
 
 ( 65 ) 
 
 and variety to the whole mafs of foliage. This 
 tree is however chiefly admired for it's flower, 
 which in itfelf is beautiful : but the whole 
 tree together in flower is a glaring object, 
 totally unharmonious, and unpicturefque. The 
 park at Hampton-court, planted, I believe by 
 king William, is a fuperb fpecimen of a plan- 
 tation of horfe-chefnuts. In fome iituations 
 indeed, and among a profufion of other wood, 
 a iingle tree or two, in bloom, may be beauti- 
 ful. As it forms an admirable made, it may 
 be of ufe too in thickening diilant fcenery ; or 
 in ikreening an object at hand: for there is no 
 fpecies of foliage, however heavy, nor any 
 fpecies of bloom, however glaring, which may 
 not be brought, by fome proper contrail, to 
 produce a good effect. 
 
 The weeping willow is a very picturefque 
 tree. It is a perfect contrail to what we have 
 juil obferved of the Lombardy poplar. The 
 light, airy fpray of the poplar rifes perpendi- 
 cularly. That of the weeping willow is pen- 
 dent. The (hape of it's leaf is conformable to 
 the penfile character of the tree ; and it's 
 fpray, which is flill lighter than that of the 
 
 VOL. i. F poplar,
 
 ( 66 ) 
 
 poplar, is more eafily put in motion by a breath 
 of air. The weeping willow however is not 
 adapted to fublime fubjects. We wim it not 
 to fkreen the broken buttrefles, and Gothic 
 windows of an abbey, nor to overfhadow the 
 battlements of a ruined caftle. Thefe offices it 
 refigns to the oak; whofe dignity can fupport 
 them. The weeping willow feeks a humbler 
 fcene fome romantic foot-path bridge, which 
 it half conceals or fome glafly pool, over 
 which it hangs it's ftreaming foliage 3 
 
 -and dips 
 
 It's pendent boughs, {looping as if to drink. 
 
 In thefe fituations it appears in character ; and 
 of courfe, to advantage. I have heard indeed 
 that the weeping willow is not naturally an 
 aquatic plant ; but it's being commonly be- 
 lieved to be fo, is ground enough to eftablifh 
 it as fuch, in landfcape at leaft, tho not in 
 botany. 
 
 The weeping willow is the only one of it's 
 tribe, that is beautiful. Botanifts, I believe, 
 enumerate lixteen fpecies of the willow. Some 
 of them, I have feen attain a very remarkable 
 fize. I remember feeing one in a meadow 
 near Witham in Eilex, which fpread over a 
 
 fpace
 
 ( 67 ) 
 
 fpace of ground, meafuring twenty-nine paces. 
 But in general, all the trees of this fort are of 
 draggling ramification, and without any of that 
 elegant ftreaming form, which we admire in 
 the weeping willow. I mould rarely therefore 
 advife their ufe in painting ; except as pollards 
 to characterize a marmy country ; or to mark 
 in a fecond diftance, the winding banks of a 
 heavy, low-funk river, which could not other- 
 wife be noticed. Some willows indeed I have 
 thought beautiful, and fit to appear in the de- 
 coration of any rural fcene. The kind I have 
 mofl admired, has a fmall narrow leaf, and 
 wears a pleafant, light, fea green tint ; which 
 mixes agreeably with foliage of a deeper hue. 
 I am not acquainted with the botanical name of 
 this fpecies, but I believe the botanifls call it 
 theja/ix alba. 
 
 The withy, or falix fragilis, is the mofl in- 
 confiderable of it's tribe. Like others of it's 
 kindred, it will grow in any foil ; tho it loves 
 a moifl one. It is of little value in landfcape, 
 and yet there is fomething beautiful in it's fil- 
 ver-coated catkins , which open, as the year 
 advances, into elegant hanging tufts ; and when 
 F 2 the
 
 ( 68 ) 
 
 the tree is large, and in full bloom, make a 
 beautiful variety among the early productions of 
 the fpring. 
 
 Nearly related to the willow tribe, tho in 
 nature rather than in form, is the alder. They 
 both love a low moift foil; and frequently the 
 banks of rivers ; tho it may be alledged in favour 
 of both, that they will flourifh in the pooreft 
 foreft fwamps, where nothing elfe will grow. 
 The alder is however the more picturefque tree, 
 both in it's ramification, and in it's foliage ; 
 perhaps indeed it is the moft picturefque of any 
 of the aquatic tribe, except the weeping wil- 
 low. - He who would fee the alder in per- 
 fection, mufl follow the banks of the Mole in 
 Surry, through the fweet vales of Dorking, 
 and Mickleham, into the groves of Emer. 
 The Mole indeed is far from being a beautiful 
 river : it is a filent and fluggifh ftream. But 
 what beauty it it has, it owes greatly to the 
 alder ; which every where fringes it's meadows, 
 and in many places forms pleafing fcenes ; 
 efpecially in the vale between Box-hill, and 
 the high grounds of Norbury-park. 
 
 Some
 
 ( 69 ) 
 
 Some of the largeft alders we have in Eng- 
 land, grow in the bimop of Durham's park at 
 Aukland-caftle. The generality of trees ac- 
 quire pi<5hirefque beauty by age : but it is not 
 often that they are fuffered to attain this pic- 
 turefque period. Some ufe is commonly found 
 for them long before that time. The oak falls 
 for the greater purpofes of man ; and the alder 
 is ready to fupply a variety of his fmaller wants. 
 An old tree therefore of any kind is a curiofity ; 
 and even an alder, fuch as thofe at Aukland- 
 caftle, when dignified by age, makes a refpec- 
 table figure. The circumference of the largeft 
 of thefe trees is nine feet ten inches, at four 
 feet from the furface. There are many noble 
 alders alfo in the park at Hagley. 
 
 The birch may have feveral varieties, with 
 which I am unacquainted. The moft common 
 fpecies of it in England, are the black, and 
 the white. The former is a native of Canada -, 
 the latter of Britain. Of the white birch there 
 is a very beautiful variety, fometimes called 
 the lady-birch, or the weeping-birch. It's 
 fpray being flenderer and longer, than the 
 common fort, forms an elegant, penfile foliage, 
 F 3 like.
 
 ( 7 ) 
 
 like the weeping willow; and like it, is put 
 in motion by the leaft breath of air. When 
 agitated, it is well adapted to characterize a 
 ftorm; or to perform any office in landfcape, 
 which is expected from the weeping willow. 
 
 The item of the birch is generally marked 
 with brown, yellow, and lilvery touches, 
 which are peculiarly pidurefque ; as they are 
 characteristic objects of imitation for the pen- 
 cil; and as they contraft agreeably with the 
 dark green hue of the foliage. But only the 
 ftem, and larger branches have this varied 
 colouring : the fpray is of a deep brown. As 
 the birch grows old, it's bark becomes rough 
 and furrowed. It lofes all it's varied tints, and 
 affumes a uniform, ferruginous hue. 
 
 The bark of this tree has the property 
 (perhaps peculiar to itfelf,) of being more 
 firm, and durable than the wood it invefts. 
 Of this the peafants of Sweden, Lapland, and 
 other northern countries, (where birch is 
 abundant,) take the advantage - y and maping it 
 
 like tiles, cover their houfes with it. How 
 
 very durable it is, we have a remarkable inftance 
 in Maupertuis's travels. When that philofopher 
 traverfed Lapland to meafure a degree of lati- 
 tude, he was obliged to pafs through vaft 
 
 forefts,
 
 ( 7' ) 
 
 forefts, confifting intirely of birch. The foil 
 in fome parts of thefe waftes being very fhal- 
 low, or very loofe, the trees had not a fuf- 
 ficient footing for their roots, and became an 
 eafy prey to winds. In thefe places Maupertuis 
 found as many trees blown down, as (landing. 
 He examined feveral of them, and was fur- 
 prized to fee that in fuch as had lain long, the 
 fubftance of of the wood was intirely gone $ 
 but the bark remained a hollow trunk without 
 any figns of decay. I have heard, that the 
 bark of the black cherry-tree in North America, 
 which grows there to a great lize, has the fame 
 property. 
 
 Among elegant, pendent trees, the acacia 
 mould not be forgotten - y tho the acacia, which 
 we have in England, (called by the botanifb, 
 the robinia) is perhaps only a poor fubftitute 
 of this plant in it's greateft perfection. And 
 yet even ours, when we have it full grown, is 
 often a very beautiful tree, whether it feathers 
 to the ground, as it fometimes does \ or 
 whether it is adorned with a light foliage 
 hanging from the ftem. But it's beauty is 
 very frail. It is of all trees the leaft able to 
 endure the blaft. In fome fheltered fpot, it 
 may ornament a garden j but it is by no -means; 
 F 4 qualified
 
 qualified to adorn an expofed country. It's 
 wood is of fo brittle a texture, efpecially when 
 it is encumbered with a weight of foliage ; 
 that you can never depend upon it's aid in 
 filling up the part you wifh. The branch you 
 admire to-day, may be demolished to-morrow. 
 The misfortune is, the acacia is not one of thofe 
 grand objects, like the oak, whofe dignity is 
 often increafed by ruin. It depends on it's 
 beauty, rather than it's grandeur, which is a 
 quality much more liable to injury. I may add 
 however in it's favour, that if it be eafily in- 
 jured, it repairs the injury more quickly, than 
 any other tree. Few trees make fo rapid a 
 growth. 
 
 In one of the memoirs publifhed by the agri- 
 cultural fociety at Paris, the virtues of this tree 
 are highly extolled. It's made encourages the 
 growth of grafs. It's roots are fo tenacious of 
 the foil, and moot up in fuch groves of fuckers, 
 that when planted on the banks of rivers, it 
 contributes exceedingly to fix them as barriers 
 againft the incurfions of the ftream. Acacia- 
 ftakes too are as durable as thofe of any wood. 
 In North- America this tree is much valued; 
 in proof of which the memorialift tells a ftory 
 of a farmer in Long-hland, who planted an 
 
 ordinary
 
 ( 73 ) 
 
 ordinary field of fourteen acres with fuckers of 
 this plant, in the year of his marriage, as 
 a portion for his children. His eldeft fon 
 married at twenty-two. On this occafion the 
 farmer cut about three hundred pounds worth 
 of timber out of his acacia wood, which he 
 gave his fon to buy a fettlement in Lancafter 
 county. Three years after, he did as much 
 for a daughter. And thus he provided for 
 his whole family ; the wood in the mean time 
 repairing by fuckers, all the lories it received. 
 
 I mail conclude my account of deciduous 
 trees with the larch, which is a kind of 
 connecting fpecies between them, and the race 
 of ever-greens. Tho it fheds it's leaf with 
 the former ; it bears a cone, is refinous, and 
 ramifies like the latter. It claims the Alps, 
 and Apennines for it's native country ; where 
 it thrives in higher regions of the air, than 
 any tree of it's confequence is known to do ; 
 hanging over rocks, and precipices, which have 
 never been vifited by human feet. Often it 
 is felled by the alpine peafant, and thrown 
 athwart fome yawning chafm, where it affords 
 a tremendous paflage from cliff to cliff; while 
 
 the
 
 ( 74 ) 
 
 the cataraft roaring many fathoms below, is 
 feen only in furges of riling vapour. 
 
 In ancient times the larch was employed 
 in ftill more arduous fervice. When Hannibal 
 laid the cliffs bare, and heaped up piles of 
 timber to melt the rocks, (fo Livy tells us) 
 the larch was his fuel : it's un&uous lides 
 foon fpread the flame ; and as the gloom of 
 evening came on, the appendages of a nu- 
 merous hoft, elephants, and floating banners, 
 and gleaming arms formed terrific images 
 through the night ; while the lofty fummits of 
 the Alps were illumined far and wide. 
 
 Strabo fpeaks of alpine trees (which moil 
 probably were larches) of a very great lize. 
 Many of them, he fays, would meafure eight 
 feet in diameter*. And at this day, mails of 
 iingle larches meafuring from a hundred and 
 ten to a hundred and twenty feet in length, 
 have been floated from Valais, through the 
 lake of Geneva, and down the Rhone, to 
 Toulon 3 tho I have heard they are in no great 
 efteem among the contractors for the French 
 dock-yards. 
 
 * Lib. iv. p. zoz. 
 
 In
 
 ( 75 ) 
 
 In the memoirs of the royal fociety of 
 agriculture at Paris for the year 1787, there 
 is an elTay by 1VL le Prefident de la Tour 
 d'Aigues, on the culture of the larch; in 
 which it is celebrated as one of the moil ufeful 
 of all timber- trees. He tells us, that in his 
 own garden he has rails, which were put up in 
 the year 1743, partly of oak, and partly of 
 larch. The former, he fays, have yielded to 
 time ; but the latter are ilill found. And in 
 his caille of Tour d'Aigues, he has larchen 
 beams of twenty inches fquare, which arc 
 found, tho above two hundred years old. The 
 fineil trees he knows of this kind, grow in 
 fome parts of Dauphiny, and in the foreil of 
 Baye in Provence, where there are larches, he 
 tells us, which two men cannot fathom. I have 
 heard, that old, dry larch will take fuch a polim 
 as to become almoil tranfparent ; and that, in 
 this ilate it may be wrought into the moil 
 beautiful wainfcot. In my encomium of the 
 larch, I muil not omit, that the old painters ufed 
 it, more than any other wood, to paint on, 
 before the ufe of canvas became general. 
 Many of Raphael's pictures are painted on 
 boards of larch. 
 
 The
 
 ( 76 ) 
 
 The larch we have in England, compared 
 with the larch of the Alps, is a diminutive 
 plant. It is little more than the puny inhabitant 
 of a garden ; or the embellishment of fome 
 trifling artificial fcene. The characters of 
 grand and noble feldom belong to it. It is 
 however an elegant tree ; tho, in our foil at 
 leaft, too formal in it's growth. Among it's 
 native fteeps it's form, no doubt, is fully 
 picturefque - y when the ftorms of many a 
 century have mattered it's equal fides -, and 
 given contraft and variety to it's boughs. 
 
 From deciduous trees, we proceed to ever- 
 greens. Of thefe the cedar of Lebanon claims 
 our firft notice. To it preeminence belongs ; 
 not only on account of it's own dignity j 
 but on account of the refpectable mention, 
 which is every where made of it in fcripture. 
 Solomon fpake of trees from the cedar of 
 Lebanon, to the hyjjbp that fpringeth out of the 
 wall : that is, from the greateft to the leaft. 
 The eaftern writers are indeed the prin- 
 cipal fources, from whom we are to obtain 
 the true character of the cedar; as it is an 
 
 eaftern
 
 ( 77 ) 
 
 eaftern tree. In the facred writers particu- 
 larly we are prefented with many noble images 
 drawn from it's feveral qualities. It is generally 
 employed by the prophets to exprefs ftrength, 
 power, and longevity. The ftrength of the 
 cedar is ufed as an emblem to exprefs the 
 power even of Jehovah. 'The voice of the Lord 
 breaketh the cedars of Lebanon. David cha- 
 ra&erizes the palm-tree, and the cedar together, 
 both very ftrongly. The righteous Jhall fourijh 
 like a palm-tree - y and fpread abroad like a cedar 
 of Lebanon. The flourifhing head of the palm, 
 and the fpreading abroad of the cedar, are 
 equally characteriftic. 
 
 But the prophet Ezekiel hath given us 
 the fulleft defcription of the cedar. 
 
 " Behold the AfTyrian was a cedar in Le- 
 banon, with fair branches ; and with a (hadow- 
 ing fhroud j and of an high ftature ; and his 
 top was among the thick boughs. His boughs 
 were multiplied, and his branches became long. 
 The fir trees were not like his boughs ; nor 
 the chefnut trees, like his branches, nor any 
 tree in the garden of God like unto him in 
 beauty*." 
 
 Ezck. xxxi. 
 
 In
 
 ( 78 ) 
 
 In this defcription two of the principal 
 chara&eriftics of the cedar are marked. 
 
 The firft is the multiplicity, and length 
 of his branches. Few trees divide fo many 
 fair branches from the main ftem ; or fpread 
 over fo large a compafs of ground. His boughs 
 are mulitiplied, as Ezekiel fays, and his branches 
 became long ; which David calls fpreading abroad. 
 His very boughs are equal to the Jiem of a fir, 
 or a chefnut. 
 
 The fecond characterilKc is, what Ezekiel, 
 with great beauty, and aptnefs, calls his Jha- 
 dowing Jhroud. No tree in the foreft is more 
 remarkable than the cedar, for it's clofe-woven, 
 leafy canopy. 
 
 Ezekiel's cedar is marked as a tree of full, 
 and perfect growth, from the circumftance 
 of it's top, being among the thick boughs. 
 Every young tree has a leading branch, or two, 
 which continue fpiring above the reft, till the 
 tree has attained it's full lize : then it becomes 
 in the language of the nurfery-man, clump- 
 beaded -, but, in the language of eaftern fub- 
 limity, it's top is among the thick boughs ; that 
 is, no diftindtion of any fpiry head, or leading 
 branch, appears : the head and the branches 
 are all mixed together. This is generally, in 
 
 all
 
 ( 79 ) 
 
 all trees, the flate, in which they are moft 
 perfect and moft beautiful : and this is the ftate 
 of Ezekiel's cedar. 
 
 But tho Ezekiel hath given us this accurate 
 defcription of the cedar ; he hath left it's 
 ftrength, which is it's chief charatteriftic, un- 
 touched. But the reafon is evident. The 
 cedar is here introduced as an emblem of 
 Aflyria; which tho vaft, and wide-fpreading, 
 and come to full maturity, was in fact, on the 
 eve of deftruction. Strength therefore was the 
 laft idea, which the prophet wimed to fuggeft. 
 Strength is a relative term, compared with 
 oppofition. The Affyrian was ftrong compared 
 with the powers of the earth ; but weak, com- 
 pared with the arm of the Almighty, which 
 brought him to deftruclion. So his type, the 
 cedar, was ftronger than any of the trees of the 
 foreft : but weak in comparifon with the ax, 
 which cut him off, and left him (as the prophet 
 exprefles the vaftnefs of his ruin)Jpread upon the 
 mountains y and in the rallies: while the nations 
 Jhook at the found of his fall. 
 
 Such is the grandeur, and form of the cedar 
 of Lebanon. It's mantling foliage, oijh&tow- 
 ing ftroud, as Ezekiel calls it, is it's greateft 
 
 beauty ;
 
 beauty ; which arifes from the horizontal growth 
 of it's branches, forming a kind of fweeping, 
 irregular penthoufe. And when to the idea 
 of beauty, that of ftrength is added by the 
 pyramidal form of the ftem, and the robuftnefs 
 of the limbs, the tree is complete in all it's 
 beauty, and majefty. 
 
 In thefe climates indeed we cannot expect to 
 fee the cedar in fuch perfection. The foreft 
 of Lebanon is perhaps the only part of the 
 world, where it's growth is perfect : yet we 
 may in fome degree conceive it's beauty and 
 majefty, from the paltry refemblances of it at 
 this diftance from it's native foil. In it's youth, 
 it is often with us a vigorous thriving plant ; 
 and if the leading branch is not bound to a 
 pole, (as many people deform their cedars,) but 
 left to take it's natural courfe, and guide the 
 ftem after it in fome irregular waving line ; 
 it is often an object of great beauty. But in 
 it's maturer age, the beauty of the Englifh 
 cedar is generally gone, it becomes mrivelled, 
 deformed, and ftunted; it's body increafes; 
 but it's limbs fhrink, and wither. Thus it 
 never gives us it's two leading qualities to- 
 gether. In it's youth we have fome idea of 
 
 it's 

 
 it's beauty without it's Jlrength j and in it's 
 advanced age we have fome idea of it'sjtrengt/j, 
 without it's beauty : the imagination therefore, 
 by joining together the two different periods of 
 it's age in this climate, may form fome con- 
 ception of the grandeur of the cedar, in it's 
 own climate, where it's ftrength and beauty are 
 
 united. The beft fpecimen of this tree, I 
 
 ever faw in England, was at Hillington, near 
 Uxbridge. The perpendicular height of it was 
 fifty-three feet > it's horizontal expanfe ninety- 
 fix ; and it's girth fifteen and a half. When I 
 law it, in 1776, it was about one hundred and 
 eighteen years of age; and being then com- 
 pletely clump-headed, it was a very noble, and 
 pifturefque tree. In the high winds about the 
 beginning of the year 1790, this noble cedar 
 was blown down. It's flem, when cut, was 
 five feet in diameter. 
 
 After the cedar, the ftone-pine deferves our 
 notice. It is not indigenous to our foil, but like 
 the cedar, it is in fome degree naturalized; 
 tho in England it is rarely more than a puny, 
 half- formed refemblance of the Italian pine. 
 The foft clime of Italy alone gives birth to t e 
 
 VOL. I. G true
 
 ( 82 ) 
 
 true pi&urefque pine*. There it always fug- 
 gefts ideas of broken porticos, Ionic pillars, 
 triumphal arches, fragments of old temples, and 
 a variety of claffic ruins, which in Italian land- 
 fcape it commonly adorns. 
 
 The ftone-pine promifes little in it's infancy 
 in point of pi&urefque beauty. It does not, 
 like moft of the fir-fpecies, give an early indi- 
 cation of it's future form. In it's youth it is 
 dwarfifh, and round-headed, with a mort ftem, 
 and has rather the fhape of a full-grown bum, 
 than of an increafing tree. As it grows older, 
 it does not foon depofit it's formal ihape. But 
 as it attains maturity, it's pidturefque form in- 
 creafes faft. It's lengthening ftem affumes 
 commonly an eafy fweep. It feldom indeed de- 
 viates much from a ftrait line : but that gentle 
 deviation is very graceful j tho above all other 
 lines difficult to trace. If accidentally either 
 the ftem, or any of the larger branches take a 
 larger fweep, than ufual, that fweep feldom 
 
 fails to be graceful. It is alfo among the 
 
 beauties of the ftone-pine, that as the lateral 
 
 * This feems to be a difputed point. Millar believes it is not 
 indigenous in Italy : and indeed 1 never heard any traveller fay he 
 had met with it in any of the uncultivated parts of that country. 
 
 branches
 
 branches decay, they leave generally (lumps, 
 which {landing out in various parts of the flem, 
 break the continuity of it's lines. 
 
 The bark is fmoother than that of any other 
 tree of the pine-kind, except the Weymouth ; 
 tho we do not efleem this among it's pic- 
 turefque beauties. It's hue however, which is 
 warm and reddifh, has a good effect; and 
 it obtains a kind of roughnefs by peeling off in 
 patches. 
 
 The foliage of the flone-pine is as beautiful 
 as the flem. It's colour is a deep warm green ; 
 and it's form, inflead of breaking into acute 
 angles, like many of the pine-race, is moulded 
 into a flowing line by an affemblage of fmall 
 maffes. 
 
 As age comes on, it's round clump-head 
 becomes more flat, fpreading itfelf into a 
 canopy, which is a form equally becoming. 
 And yet I doubt, whether any refinous tree 
 ever attains that pi&urefque beauty in age, 
 which we admire fo much in the oak. The 
 oak continues long vigorous in his branches, 
 tho his trunk decays : but the refinous tree, 
 I believe, decays more equally through all 
 it's parts, and in age oftener prefents the idea 
 of vegetable decrepitude, than of the flout 
 G 2 remains
 
 remains of a vigorous conftitution. And yet, 
 in many circumftances, even in this ftate it 
 may be an object of pifturefque notice. 
 
 Thus we fee, in the form of the ftone-pine, 
 what beauty may refult from a tree with a 
 
 round head, and without lateral branches ; 
 
 \ 
 
 which requires indeed a good example to prove. 
 When we look at an am, or an elm, from 
 which the lateral branches have been {tripped, 
 as is the practice in fome countries, we are 
 apt to think, that no tree, with a head placed 
 on a long ftem, can be beautiful -, yet in 
 nature's hands, (which can mould fo many 
 forms of beauty,) it may ealily be effected. 
 Nature herfelf however does not always follow 
 the rules of pidturefque beauty in the produc- 
 tion of this kind of objedl. The cabbage-tree, 
 I fuppofe, is as ugly, as the ftone-pine is pic- 
 turefque. The beft fpecimen of the ftone- 
 pine I ever faw, grew in the botanical garden 
 atrQxford. For the fake of the ground it oc- 
 cupied (I never heard any other reafon fug- 
 gefted) it was lately cut down. 
 
 The moft beautiful fuccedaneum of the 
 ftone-pine, which thefe climates afford, is the 
 
 pinafter.
 
 ( 85 ) 
 
 pinafter. The fweep of it's ftem is fimilar, 
 it's broken lateral branches likewife, and it's 
 clump-head. Both trees alfo are equally irre- 
 gular in their growth : but the pinafter is 
 perhaps more picturefque in the roughnefs of 
 it's dark-grey bark. On no trees have I feen 
 broader, and better varied maffes of light, and 
 fhade : but the clofenefs of the pinafter's foliage 
 makes it's head fometimes too heavy. 
 
 The clufter-pine alfo is a beautiful tree, and 
 approaches perhaps as near the ftone-pine, as 
 the pinafter does. But I fcarce recollect ever 
 to have feen it in a ftate of full maturity, and 
 perfection. If we may judge however from a 
 growth of thirty or forty years, (at which age 
 I have ,often feen it) it moots in fo wild, 
 and irregular a manner; fo thick, rich, and 
 bufhy, that we may eafily conceive how 
 picturefque a plant it muft be in a ftate of full 
 perfection. It's cones too, which it bears in 
 clufters, from whence it derives it's name, are 
 a great ornament to it. In compofition indeed 
 fuch minutiae are of little value ; but we are now 
 confidering trees as individuals. 
 
 G 7 The
 
 The Weymouth-pine has very little pictu- 
 refque beauty to recommend it. It is admired 
 for it's polifhed bark. The painter's eye pays 
 little attention to fo trivial a circumftance, even 
 when the tree is confidered as a fmgle object. 
 Nay it's polifhed bark rather depreciates it's 
 value : for the picturefque eye dwells with 
 more pleafure on rough furfaces, than on 
 fmoothj it fees more richnefs in them, and 
 more variety. But we object chiefly to the 
 Weymouth-pine on account of the regularity of 
 it's item ; and the meagrenefs of it's foliage. 
 It's ftem rifes with perpendicular exactnefs - y it 
 rarely varies : and it's branches iflue with 
 equal formality from it's fides. It's foliage too 
 is thin, and wants both richnefs and effect. 
 If I were fpeaking indeed of this tree in com- 
 pofition, I might add, that it may often appear 
 to great advantage in a plantation. Contrafl, 
 we know, produces beauty even from deformity 
 itfelf. Oppofed therefore to the wildnefs of 
 other trees, the regularity of the Weymouth- 
 pine may have it's beauty. It's formality may 
 be concealed. A few of it's branches hang- 
 ing from a mafs of heavier foliage, may 
 appear light, and feathery; while it's fpiry 
 
 head
 
 head may often form an agreeable apex to a 
 clump. 
 
 Having thus confidered the pine-race, we 
 next take a view of a tribe nearly allied to them 
 that of firs. In what the diftinction between 
 thefe two tribes confifts, (tho, I apprehend, 
 it confifts in little more, than in that between 
 genus, and fpecies) the botanift will explain. 
 I profefs myfelf an obferver only of outward 
 characters. What we ufually call the Scotch 
 fir appears to me to approach nearer the pine 
 in it's manner of growth, than it does any of 
 it's nominal clafs. As this tree therefore feems 
 to be of ambiguous nature, at leaft as to 
 it's form, I fhall place it here that is imme- 
 diately after the pines, and before the firs ; 
 that it may with facility join one party, or the 
 other, as the reader's botanical principles 
 incline. 
 
 The Scotch fir is fuppofed to be the only 
 indigenous Terebinthine tree in this ifland; 
 and yet tho it abounds, and when feen in 
 perfection is a very picturefque tree, we have 
 little idea of it's beauty. It is generally treated 
 with great contempt. It is a hardy plant, and 
 G 4 therefore
 
 ( 88 ) 
 
 therefore put to every fervile office. If you 
 wim to fkreen your houfe from the fouth- 
 weft -wind, plant Scotch firs; and plant them 
 clofe, and thick. If you want to fhelter a 
 nurfery of young trees, plant Scotch firs : 
 and the phrafe is, you may afterwards 'weed 
 them out, as you pleafe. This is ignominious. 
 I wifh not to rob fociety of thefe hardy fer- 
 vices from the Scotch fir : nor do I mean 
 to fet it in competition with many of the 
 trees of the foreft, which in their infant ffote 
 it is accuftomed to fhelter : all I mean is, to 
 refcue it from the difgrace of being thought 
 fit for nothing elfe - y and to eftablim it's cha- 
 racter as a picture fque tree. For myfelf, I 
 admire it's foliage ; both the colour of the 
 leaf, and it's mode of growth. It's ramifi- 
 cation too is irregular, and beautiful ; and 
 not unlike that of the {tone-pine j which it 
 refembles alfo in the eafy fweep of it's item ; 
 and likwife in the colour of the bark, which 
 is commonly, as it attains age, of a rich 
 reddifh brown. The Scotch fir indeed, in 
 it's ftripling ftate, is lefs an object of beauty. 
 It's pointed, and fpiry moots, during the 
 firft years of it's growth, are formal ; and yet 
 I have fometimes feen a good contrail: pro- 
 duced
 
 ( 89 ) 
 
 duced between it's fpiry points, and the 
 round-headed oaks, and elms in it's neigh- 
 bourhood. When I fpeak however of the 
 Scotch fir as a beautiful individual, I conceive 
 it, when it has out-grown all the more un- 
 pleafant circum fiances of it's youth when it 
 has compleated it's full age and when, like 
 Ezekiel's cedar, it has formed it's head among 
 the thick branches. I may be fingular in my 
 attachment to the Scotch fir : I know it has 
 many enemies : and that may perhaps induce 
 me to be more compafiionate to it : however I 
 wim my opinion in it's favour may weigh 
 no more, than the reafons I give to fupport it. 
 
 The great contempt indeed, in which the 
 Scotch fir is commonly held, arifes, I believe, 
 from two caufes. 
 
 People object firft to it's colour. It's dark, 
 
 murky hue, we are told, is unpleafmg. With 
 
 regard to dolour in general, I think I fpeak the 
 language of painting, when I aflert, that the 
 pi&urefque eye makes little distinction in this 
 matter. It has no attachment to one colour 
 in preference to another : but confiders the 
 beauty of all colouring, as refulting not from 
 the colours themfelves, but almoft intirely 
 from their harmony with other colours in 
 
 their
 
 ( 9 ) 
 
 their neighbourhood. So that as the fir-tree 
 is fupported, combined, or ftationed, it forms 
 a plealing tint, or a murky fpot. 
 
 A fecond fource of that contempt, in which 
 the Scotch fir is commonly held, is our 
 rarely feeing it in a pi&urefque ftate. Scotch 
 firs are feldom planted as Jingle trees, or in 
 a judicious group : but generally in c lofe, com- 
 patt bodies, in thick array, which fuffbcates, 
 or cramps them j and if they ever get loofe 
 from this bondage, they are already ruined. 
 Their lateral branches are gone, and their 
 items are drawn into poles, on which 
 their heads appear ftuck as on a center. 
 Whereas if the tree had grown in it's natural 
 ftate, all mifchief had been prevented. It's 
 ftem would have taken an eafy fweep ; and 
 it's lateral branches, which naturally grow 
 with as much beautiful irregularity as thofe 
 of deciduous trees, would have hung loofely, 
 and negligently ; and the more fo, as there 
 is fomething peculiarly light, and feathery in 
 it's foliage. I mean not to aflert, that every 
 Scotch fir, tho in a natural ftate, would pof- 
 fefs thefe beauties: but it would at leaft, 
 have the chance of other trees -, and I have 
 feen it, tho indeed but rarely, in fuch a ftate, 
 
 as
 
 ( 9' ) 
 
 as to equal in beauty the moft elegant ftone- 
 pine. 
 
 All trees indeed, crouded together, naturally 
 rife in perpendicular items : but the fir has 
 this peculiar difadvantage, that it's lateral 
 branches, once injured, never fhoot again. 
 A grove of crouded faplins, elms, beeches, 
 or almoft of any deciduous trees, when thinned, 
 will throw out new lateral branches ; and in 
 time recover a ftate of beauty : but if the 
 education of the fir has been neglected, he 
 is loft for ever. 
 
 Some of the moft picturefque trees of this 
 kind perhaps in England, adorn Mr. Lenthall's 
 deferted, and ruinous manfion of Bafilfleigh 
 in Berkshire . The foil is a deep, but rich 
 fand ; which feems to be adapted to them. 
 And as they are here at perfect liberty, they 
 not only become large, and noble trees - y but 
 expand themfelves likewife in all the carelefs 
 forms of nature. Very noble Scotch firs alfo 
 may be feen at Thirkleby near Thirfk in York- 
 mire. Nor has any man, I think, a right to 
 depreciate the Scotch fir, till he has feen 
 it in a perfect ftate of nature. 
 
 The
 
 The fpruce-fir is generally efteemed a more 
 beautiful, and elegant tree, than the Scotch fir j 
 and the reafon, I fuppofe, is, becaufe it 
 feathers to the ground, and grows in a more 
 exact, and regular fhape. But this in a pictu- 
 refque light, is a principal objection to it. It 
 wants both form and variety. We admire 
 it's floating foliage, in which it fometimes 
 exceeds all other trees ; but it is rather 
 difagreeable to fee a repetition of thefe feathery 
 flrata, beautiful as they are, reared, tier, 
 above tier,, in regular order, from the bottom 
 of a tree to the top. It's perpendicular item, 
 alfo, which has feldom any lineal variety, 
 makes the appearance of the tree flill more 
 formal. 
 
 It is not always however that the fpruce- 
 fir grows with fo much regularity. Some- 
 times a lateral branch taking the lead, breaks 
 fomewhat through the order, commonly ob- 
 ferved, and forms a few chafms, which have 
 a good effect. When this is the cafe, the 
 fpruce-fir ranks among picturefque trees. 
 Sometimes the effect is as good, and in many 
 circumftances better, when the contraft appears 
 
 ftill
 
 ( 93 ) 
 
 ftill ftronger when the tree is fhattered by 
 fome accident ; has loft many of it's branches ; 
 and is fcathed, and ragged. A feathery branch 
 here and there, among broken ftumps, has often 
 a good effeft ; but it muft arife from the wild 
 fituation of the tree. On an embellished lawn 
 it would be improper. In all circumftances 
 however the fpruce-fir appears beft either 
 as a fingle tree, or unmixed with any of it's 
 fellows : for neither it, nor any of the 
 fpear-headed race, will ever form a beauti- 
 ful clump without the affiftance of other 
 trees. 
 
 The filver-fir has very little to boaft in 
 point of picturefque beauty. It has all the 
 regularity of the fpruce ; but without it's 
 floating foliage. There is a fort of harfh, 
 ftifF, unbending formality in the ftem, the 
 branches, and in the whole economy of the 
 tree, which makes it difagreeable. We rarely 
 fee it, even in the happieft ftate^ affume a 
 picturefque fhape. Aflifted it may be in it's 
 form, when broken and mattered ; but it will 
 rarely get rid of it's formality. In old age 
 it ftands the beft chance of attaining beauty. 
 
 We
 
 ( 94 ) 
 
 We fomtimes fee it under that circumftance, 
 fluttered by winds, adorned with ivy, and 
 {hooting out a few horizontal branches, on 
 which it's meagre foliage, and tufted mofs 
 appear to advantage. I may add, that the 
 filver-iir is perhaps the hardieft of it's tribe. 
 It will out-face the fouth-wefl wind : it 
 will bear without fhrinking even the fea-air : 
 fo that one advantage at leafl attends a 
 plantation of lilver-firs ; you may have it, 
 where you can have no other ; and a plantation 
 of filver-firs may be better than no plantation at 
 all. At the fame I have heard, that it is 
 nice, in it's foil : and that an improver may 
 be liable to difappointment, who plants it 
 in ground, where the oak will not thrive. 
 
 I know of no other fpecies of fir in 
 England, that is worth mentioning. The 
 hemlock-fpruce is a beautiful loofe plant, 
 but it never, I believe, attains any fize ; 
 and the Newfoundland, or black-fpruce, is 
 another dwarfim tree. In that character 
 however it is often beautiful ; and it's fmall 
 
 red cones are an ornament to it. In the 
 
 vaft pine-forefts of North-America ; and in 
 thofe, which hang beetling over the cliffs of 
 the Baltic, the pi&urefque eye might pro- 
 bably
 
 ( 95 ) 
 
 bably fee many a grand production of the fir 
 kind, which is hitherto little known ; or if 
 known, would appear there in fo improved 
 a character, as to feem wholly new. In the 
 northern parts of Afia alfo, and in the fouthern 
 parts of Africa, I doubt not, but the fir may 
 be found in great variety, and perfection. In 
 Philip's voyage to Botany-bay we are told of 
 pines in Norfolk-ifland of an immenfe fize. 
 Later accounts make fome of thefe pines, 
 which have been meafured by a quadrant, to 
 have attained the wonderful height of two 
 hundred, and thirty feet. They bear cones ; 
 but the wood, from a fample brought into 
 England (in the poiTeflion of Sir Jofeph Banks) 
 does not appear like deal ; but is much 
 heavier -, the grain confiderably clofer ; and 
 the colour browner. The girth of the tree, 
 from which this fample was cut, was eighteen 
 feet. The firft branches were at the ele- 
 vation of thirty yards : but I could not 
 learn, whether this circumftance was a 
 general character of the tree, or peculiar 
 only to that individual. Strabo indeed tells us, 
 that the fir is wholly a European plant that 
 it is never to be met with in any part of 
 Afia and that it may even be confidered, in 
 
 all
 
 ( 96 ) 
 
 all thofe places, where Europe and Afia border 
 on each other, as a diftinguifhing mark of 
 European ground. On the Afiatic fide of 
 the Tanais, he tells us, it is never found > 
 tho on the European fide it is fo common 
 that the Scythians, who inhabit thofe parts, 
 ufe it always in making arrows. He treats 
 Eratofthenes with fome contempt, for afierting, 
 that when Alexander was in India, he ufed 
 fir in conftrucling his navy*. Strabo's ac- 
 curacy is generally much refpecled : but, in 
 this inftance his obfervations feem to have 
 been confined. There is little doubt, I think, 
 that the fir abounded in many parts of Afia : 
 it was probably as much a native of mount 
 Lebanon, as the cedar itfelf -f. 
 
 After the pine, and fir tribes, the yew 
 deferves our notice. The yew is a pure native 
 of Britain, and was formerly what the oak 
 
 * See lib. ii. p. 510. edit. Cauf. 
 
 f After all however, it is probable, that the word S*TU, 
 which the Latins translate abies, and we tranflate fir, might 
 appear to be fomewhat very different from the tree, which we 
 call a fir, if we had a Grecian botanifl to confult. 
 
 i . 
 
 IS
 
 ( 97 ) 
 
 is now, the bafis of our ftrength. Of it the 
 old Englifh yeoman made his long-bow ; 
 which, he vaunted, nobody but an Englim- 
 man, could bend. In mooting he did not, 
 as in other nations, keep his left hand fteady, 
 and draw his bow with his right : but keeping 
 his right at reft upon the nerve, he prefied 
 the whole weight of his body into the horns 
 of his bow*. Hence probably arofe the Eng- 
 lifh phrafe of bending a bow ; and the French 
 of drawing one. 
 
 Nor is the yew celebrated only for it's 
 toughnefs, and elafticity ; but alfo for it's 
 durable nature. Where your paling is moft 
 expofed either to winds, or fprings ; ftrengthen 
 it with a poft of old yew. That hardy veteran 
 fears neither ftorms above, nor damps below. 
 It is a common faying amongft the inhabitants 
 of New-foreft, that a poft of yew will out- 
 laft a poft of iron. 
 
 Thus much for the utility, and dignity of 
 the yew. As to it's pifturefque perfections, 
 I profefs myfelf (contrary I fuppofe to general 
 opinion) a great admirer of it's form, and 
 
 * See Bp. Latimer's fermons. Serm. VJ. 
 
 VOL. i. H foliage.
 
 ( 98 ) 
 
 foliage. The yew is of all other trees, the 
 moft tonfile. Hence all the indignities it 
 fuffers. We every where fee it cut and 
 metamorphofed into fuch a variety of defor- 
 mities, that we are hardly brought to conceive, 
 it has a natural fhape j or the power, which 
 other trees have, of hanging with eafe. Yet 
 it has this power in a great degree ; and in 
 a ftate of nature, except in expofed iituations, 
 is perhaps one of the moft beautiful ever- 
 greens we have. Indeed, I know not, whether 
 all things confidered, it is not fuperior to 
 the cedar of Lebanon itfelf I mean to fuch 
 meagre reprefentatives of that noble plant, 
 as we have in England. The fame foil, 
 which cramps the cedar, is congenial to 
 the yew. 
 
 It is but feldom however, that we fee the 
 yew in perfection. In New-foreft it formerly 
 abounded: but it is now much fcarcer. It 
 does not rank among timber-trees ; and being 
 thus in a degree unprivileged, and unpro- 
 tected by foreft-laws, it has often been made 
 booty of by thofe, who durft not lay violent 
 hands on the oak, or the am. But ftill in 
 many parts of the foreft, fome noble fpecimens 
 of this tree are left. One I have often vifited, 
 
 which
 
 ( 99 ) 
 
 which is a tree of peculiar beauty. It 
 diately divides into feveral mafly limbs, each 
 of which hanging in grand loofe foliage, 
 fpreads over a large compafs of ground, and 
 yet the whole tree forms a clofe, compact 
 body : that is, it's boughs are not fo feparated, 
 as to break into diftincl: parts. It cannot boaft 
 the fize of the yew-tree at Fotheringal, near 
 Taymouth in Scotland, which meafures fifty- 
 fix feet, and an half in circumference : nor 
 indeed the fize of many others on record : 
 but it has fufricient fize for all the purpofes 
 of landfcape, and in point of picturefque 
 beauty it probably equals any of them. It 
 {lands not far from Lymington river, on the 
 left bank as you look towards the fea, between 
 Roy don-farm, and Boldre-church. It occupies 
 a fmall knoll, furrounded with other trees ; 
 fome of which are yews ; but of inferior 
 beauty. A little ftream wafhes the bafe of 
 the knoll ; and winding round forms it into 
 a peninfula. If any one" mould have curiofity 
 to vifit it from this defcription, and by the 
 help of thefe land-marks, I doubt not, but 
 he may find it, at any time, within the fpace 
 of thefe two or three centuries, in great per- 
 fection, if it fuffer no external injury. If 
 H 2 fuch
 
 liich trees were common, they would recover 
 the character of the yew-tree among the ad- 
 mirers of pi&urefque beauty. 
 
 But tho we mould be able to eftablifh it's 
 beauty with refpeft to form, and foliage; 
 there remains one point ftill, which we mould 
 find it hard to combat. It's colour unfortu- 
 nately gives offence. It's dingy, funerial hue, 
 people fay, makes it fit only for a church- 
 yard. 
 
 This objection, I hope, I have already 
 anfwered in defending the colour of the Scotch 
 fir*. An attachment to colour, as fuch, feems 
 to me, an indication of falfe tafte. Hence arife 
 the numerous abfurdities of gaudy decoration. 
 In the fame manner, a diflike to any particular 
 colour mews a fqueamimnefs, which mould 
 as little be encouraged. Indeed, when you have 
 only one colour to deal with, as in painting 
 the wainfcot of your room, the eye properly 
 enough gives a preference to fome foft, plea- 
 fant tint, in oppofition to a glaring, bold one : 
 but when colours adt in concert, (as is the 
 cafe in all fcenery,) red, blue, yellow, light 
 green, or dingy green, are all alike. The 
 
 See page 89. 
 
 virtue
 
 ( 101 ) 
 
 virtue of each confifts folely in it's agreement 
 with it's neighbours. 
 
 I have only to add, in commendation of 
 this tree, that it's veins exceed in beauty 
 thofe of moft other trees. Tables made of 
 yew, when the grain is fine, are much fu- 
 perior to mahogany ; and it's root vies in 
 beauty with the ancient citron. 
 
 The ilex, or ever-green oak, prefents a 
 character very different from that of the yew. 
 The yew is a clofe-bodied, compact tree. 
 The ilex is generally thin, and ftraggling; 
 tho we fometimes fee it, in foils, which it 
 likes, form a thicker foliage. Both the yew 
 and the ilex are beautiful ; but in different 
 ways. As an individual, the yew is greatly 
 fuperior. It is an object to admire. The 
 beauty of the ilex arifes chiefly from fituation, 
 and contraft. 
 
 Under this head may be clafled another 
 oak, nearly an ever-green, a late production of 
 fingular origin, called the Luccomb-oak, from 
 the perfon, who raifed it. It was produced 
 from an acorn of the common Turkey-oak ; 
 from which all the Luccomb oaks have been 
 H 3 grafted-,
 
 ( 102 ) 
 
 grafted -, as I underftand, the feed of acci- 
 dental varieties never produce the fame plant. 
 I have heard much of the beauty of this 
 tree ; and of the acquifition it will be to 
 winter-fcenery by the introduction of a new, 
 and beautiful ever-green. It may be fo. It's 
 growth, I am told, is rapid. But from the 
 few plants I have feen of this flock, and 
 thofe but young, no judgment can well be 
 formed. 
 
 The holly can hardly be called a tree, tho 
 it is a large fhrub. It is a plant however 
 of fingular beauty. Mr. Evelin, in his Sylva, 
 cries out with rapture ; "Is there under 
 heaven a more glorious, and refrefhing ob- 
 ject of the kind, than an impenetrable hedge, 
 of about four hundred feet in length, nine 
 feet high, and five in diameter, which I can 
 mew in my gardens at Say's-court, at any 
 time of the year, glittering with it's armed 
 and varnifhed leaves -, the taller flandards at 
 orderly diftances, blufhing with their natural 
 coral morn and fafhioned into columns, and 
 pilafters, architectionally fhaped, at due dif- 
 tance? " 
 
 Tho
 
 Tho we cannot accord with the learned 
 naturalift in the whole of this rapturous en- 
 comium on the hedge at Say's-court > yet 
 in part we agree with him -, and admire, 
 as much as he does, the holly, glittering 
 ivitb it's armed and varnifhed leaves -> and 
 blufhing 'with it's natural coral. But we could 
 wifli to recommend it, not in a hedge, but 
 in a foreft ; where mixed with oak, or am, 
 or other trees of the wood, it contributes 
 to form the moft beautiful fcenes; blending 
 itfelf with the trunks, and fkeletons of the 
 winter - y or with the varied greens of fummer. 
 But in it's combined ftate we mail have 
 occafion hereafter 'to mention it. At prefent 
 we mail only obferve that, as far as an in- 
 dividual bum can be beautiful, the holly is 
 extremely fo. It has belides to recommend 
 it, that it is among the hardieft and ftouteft 
 plants of Englifh growth. It thrives in alinoft 
 all foils, and fituations. At Dungenefs in 
 Kent, I have heard, it flourifhes even among 
 the pebbles of the beach. 
 
 The haw-thorn mould not entirely be palled 
 
 over amidft the minuter plants of the foreft, 
 
 H 4 tho
 
 ( I0 4 ) 
 
 tho it has little claim to pifturefque beauty. 
 In fong indeed the fhepherd may with propriety 
 
 -tell his tale 
 
 Under the haw-thorn in the dale: 
 
 But when the fcenes of nature are prefented 
 to the eye, it is but a poor appendage. 
 It's fhape is bad. It does not taper, and 
 point, like the holly, but is rather a matted, 
 round, heavy bum. It's fragrance indeed is 
 great : but it's bloom, which is the fource 
 of that fragrance, is fpread over it in too much 
 profufion. It becomes a mere white meet - 
 a bright fpot, which is feldom found in har- 
 mony with the objects around it. In autumn 
 the haw-thorn makes it's befl appearance. 
 It's glowing berries produce a rich tint, which 
 often adds great beauty to the corner of a wood, 
 or the fide of fome crouded clump. 
 
 SECT.
 
 SECT. V. 
 
 'E have thus endeavoured to mark the 
 principal charafteriftics of picturefque 
 beauty, in the moft common trees we have 
 in England. But to have a more accurate idea 
 of their nice peculiarities, and dijlinttions, we 
 mould examine their fmaller parts with a 
 little more precifion their ramification in 
 winter ; as well as the mafs of foliage, which 
 they exhibit in fummer. 
 
 Their ramification, in part, we have already 
 confide red ; but it has only been that of the 
 larger boughs, which fupport the foliage \ 
 and fuch as we commonly fee under the 
 mafles of it, when in full leaf. Winter dif- 
 covers the nicer parts of the ramification 
 the little tender fpray ; on which the hang- 
 ing of the foliage, and the peculiar character 
 of the tree fo much depend. 
 
 The
 
 ( 106 ) 
 
 The ftudy is certainly ufeful. It is true it 
 has none of the larger parts of painting for 
 it's object compofition or the mailing of 
 light and (hade : but we confider it as neceflary 
 for thofe to underftand, who wifh either to be 
 acquainted with the particular charaSler of 
 each tree -> or it's general effett. 
 
 Nor is it an unplealing ftudy. There is 
 much variety in the ramification of each 
 fpecies ; and much alfo in that of each indi- 
 vidual. We fee every where fo many elegant 
 lines ; fo much oppofition, and rich in- 
 terfection among them, that there are few 
 more beautiful objects in nature, than the 
 ramification of a tree. For myfelf, I am in 
 doubt, whether an old, rough, interwoven 
 oak, merely as a Jingle objeEt, has not as 
 much beauty in winter, as in fummer. In 
 fummer it has unqueftionably more efFect; 
 but in point of fimple beauty, and amufe- 
 ment, I think I mould almoft prefer it in 
 winter. 
 
 If a man were difpofed to moralize, the 
 ramification, and fpray of a thriving tree afford 
 a good theme. Nothing gives a happier idea 
 
 of
 
 ( 107 ) 
 
 of bufy life. Induftry, and a&ivity, pervade 
 every part. Wherever an opening, how 
 minute foever appears, there fome little 
 knot of bufy adventurers pufh in, and form 
 a fettlement : fo that the whole is every where 
 full and complete. There too, as is common 
 in all communities, are many little elbowings, 
 juftlings, thwartings, and oppofitions, in 
 which fome gain, and others lofe*. 
 
 In 
 
 * As a continuation of this moralizing ftrain, the following 
 fliort allegory ventures to appear in a note. 
 
 Ut fylvae foliis pronos mutantur in annos; 
 Prima cadunt ; ita . . .-, 
 
 Debemur morti nos, noftraque 
 
 As I fat carelefsly at my window, and threw my eyes upon 
 a large acacia, which grew before me, I conceived it might aptly 
 reprefent a country divided into provinces, towns, and families. 
 The larger branches might hold out the firft the fmaller 
 branches, connected with them, the fecond and thofe com- 
 binations of collateral leaves, which fpecify the acacia, might 
 
 reprefent families, compofed of individuals. It was now 
 
 late in the year ; and the autumnal tint had taken pofleffion of 
 great part of the tree. 
 
 As I fat looking at it, many of the yellow leaves (which 
 having been produced earlier, decayed fooner) were continual- 
 ly dropping into the lap of their great mother. Here was
 
 In examining the fpray of trees, I mall 
 confine myfelf to the oak, the am, the elm, 
 and the beech. It would be endlefs to run 
 through the whole forefl. Nor is it necef- 
 
 fary. 
 
 an emblem of natural decay the moft obvious appearance of 
 mortality. 
 
 As I continued looking, a gentle breeze rufled among the 
 leaves. Many fell, which in a natural courfe might have en- 
 joyed life longer. Here malady was added to decay. 
 
 The blaft increafed ; and every branch, that prefented itfelf, 
 bowed before it. A fhower of leaves covered the ground. 
 The cup of vengeance, faid I, is poured out upon the people. 
 Peftilence fhakes the land. Nature fickens in the gale. They 
 fall by multitudes. Whole families are cut off together. 
 
 Among the branches was one entirely withered. The leaves 
 were fhrivelled ; yet clinging to it. Here was an emblem 
 of famine. The nutriment of life was flopped. Exiftence was 
 juft fupported : but every form was emaciated, and fhrunk. 
 
 In the neighbourhood ftretched a branch, not only fhrivelled, 
 and withered; but having been more expofed to winds, was 
 ftripped almoft intirely of it's leaves. Here and there hung a 
 folitary leaf, juft enough to fhew, that the whole had lately 
 been alive. Ah ! faid I, here is an emblem of depopulation. 
 Some violent caufe hath laid wafte the land. Towns, and 
 villages, as well as families are defolated. Scarce ten are left to 
 bemoan a thoufand. 
 
 How does every thing around us bring it's leflbn to our minds ! 
 Nature is the great book of God. In every page is inftruftion 
 to thofe, who read. Mortality muft claim it's due. Death in 
 
 various fhapes hovers round us. Thus far went the heathen 
 
 moralift. He had learned no other knowledge from thefe 
 
 peri fh ing
 
 ( I0 9 ) 
 
 fary. The examination of thefe few principal 
 trees will mew how confequential a part, the 
 fpray is, in fixing the character of the tree. 
 There is as much difference in the fpray, as 
 there is in the foliage, or in any other par- 
 ticular. At the fame time, if a painter be 
 accurate, in a certain degree, in his delineation 
 of fome of the more capital trees -, in others, 
 his accuracy is of little confequence : nay an 
 endeavour at precifion would be ftifF, and 
 pedantic. 
 
 In the fpray of the four fpecies of trees juft 
 mentioned, and I doubt not, in that of all 
 
 perifhing forms of nature, but that men, like trees, are fubjeft 
 to death. 
 
 Ita 
 
 Debemur morti nos, noftraque 
 
 Better inftrucled, learn thou a nobler leflbn. Learn, that that 
 God, who with the blaft of winter fhrivels the tree, and with 
 the breezes of fpring reftores it, offers it to thee as an emblem 
 of thy hopes. The fame God prefides over the natural, and 
 moral world. His works are uniform. The truths, which 
 nature teaches, as far as they go, are the truths of revelation 
 alfo. It is written in both thefe books, that, that power, 
 which revives the tree, will revive thre alfo, like it, with 
 increafing perfection. 
 
 othej
 
 other trees, nature feems to obferve one 
 fimple principle -, which is, that the mode 
 of growth in the fpray, correfponds exactly 
 with that of the larger branches, of which 
 indeed the fpray is the origin. Thus the oak 
 divides his boughs from the ftem more hori- 
 zontally, than moft other deciduous trees. 
 The fpray makes exactly in miniature the 
 fame appearance. It breaks out in right an- 
 gles, or in angles that are nearly fo ; forming 
 it's moots commonly in fhort lines; the 
 fecond year's moot ufually taking fome direc- 
 tion contrary to that of the firft. Thus the 
 rudiments are laid of that abrupt mode of 
 ramification, for which the oak is remark- 
 able. When two (hoots fpring from the fame 
 knot, they are commonly of unequal length ; 
 and one with large ftrides generally takes the 
 lead. Very often alfo three moots, and 
 fometimes four, fpring from the fame knot. 
 Hence the fpray of the oak becomes thick, 
 clofe, and interwoven; fo that, at a little 
 diftance, it has a full, rich appearance, and 
 more of the picturefque roughnefs, than we 
 obferve in the fpray of any other tree. The 
 fpray of the oak alfo generally fprings in 
 fuch directions, as give it's branches that 
 
 horizontal

 
 horizontal appearance, which they generally 
 aflame. 
 
 The fpray of the afh is very different. As 
 the boughs of the am are lefs complex, fo is 
 it's fpray. Inftead of the thick, intermingled 
 bufhinefs, which the fpray of the oak exhibits -, 
 that of the am is much more fimple, running 
 in a kind of irregukr parallels. The main 
 ftem holds it's courfe, forming at the fame 
 time a beautiful fweep : but the fpray does 
 not divide like that of the oak, from the 
 extremity of the laft year's moot j but fprings 
 from the fides of it. Two moots fpring out, 
 oppofite to each other ; and each pair in a con- 
 trary direction. Rarely however both the 
 moots of either fide come to maturity \ one of 
 them is commonly loft, as the tree increafes ; 
 or at leaft makes no appearance in comparifon 
 with the other, which takes the lead. So 
 that, notwithftanding this natural regularity 
 of growth, (fo injurious to the beauty of the 
 fpruce fir, and fome other trees,) the afh 
 never contracts the leaft difgufting formality 
 from it. It may even receive great pidlu- 
 refque beauty : for fometimes the whole branch 
 
 is
 
 is loft, as far as one of the lateral fhoots ; and 
 this occafions a kind of rectangular junction, 
 which forms a beautiful contraft with the 
 other fpray, and gives an elegant mode of 
 hanging to the tree. 
 
 This points out another difference between 
 the fpray of the oak, and that of the am. 
 The fpray of the oak feldom moots from 
 the underfides of the branches : and it is this 
 chiefly, which keeps the branches in a horizon- 
 tal form. But the fpray of the am, often 
 breaking out on the underfide of the branch, 
 often forms very elegant pendent boughs. 
 
 The branch of the elm hath neither the 
 ftrength, nor the various abrupt twiftings of 
 the oak ; nor doth it moot fo much in hori- 
 zontal directions. Such alfo is the fpray. 
 It has a more regular appearance ; not ftarting 
 off at right angles ; but forming it's moots 
 more acutely with the parent branch. 
 
 Neither does the fpray of the elm moot, 
 like that of the am, in regular pairs, from the 
 fame knot ; but in a kind of alternacy. It 
 has generally, at firft, a flat appearance : but 
 as one year's moot is added to another, it has 
 
 not
 
 ( 3 ) 
 
 not ftrength to fupport itfelf ; and as the tree 
 grows old, it often becomes pendent alfo, 
 like the afh : whereas the toughnefs, and 
 ftrength of the oak enables it to ftretch out 
 it's branches horizontally to the very laft 
 twig. I have feen an oak with pendent 
 branches ; but it is not common. 
 
 The fpray of the beech obferves the fame 
 kind of alternacy, as that of the elm : but it 
 moots in angles flill more acute : the diftance 
 between each twig is wider; and it forms a 
 kind of zigzag courfe. 
 
 We efteem the beech alfo, in fome degree, 
 a pendent tree, as well as the afh : but there 
 is a wide difference between them. The am 
 is a light airy tree, and it's fpray hangs in 
 elegant, loofe foliage. But the hanging fpray 
 of the beech, in old trees especially, is often 
 twifled, and intermingled difagreeably ; and 
 has a perplexed, matted appearance. The 
 whole tree gives us fomething of the idea 
 of an intangled head of bufhy hair, from 
 which, here and there, hangs a diforderly 
 lock ; while the fpray of the afh, like hair 
 neither neglected, nor finically nice, has no- 
 VOL. I. I thing
 
 ( "4 ) 
 
 thing fqualid in it, and yet hangs in loofe 
 and eafy curls. 
 
 The fpray of trees puts on different ap- 
 pearances, as the fpring advances. When 
 their buds begin to fwell, moft of them pum 
 out a bloom, which overfpreads them with 
 great richnefs. But of all others, the am 
 prefents the moft lingular, and beautiful af- 
 pecl:. About the end of march, or the be- 
 ginning of april, it throws out a knotty bloom, 
 which opening gradually, not only inriches 
 the fpray ; but is itfelf one of the moft 
 beautiful among the miniature appearances of 
 nature. The feminal ftems are of an olive 
 tint, and each of them is tipped with a black 
 
 feed. Often too the fpray of the am, is 
 
 inriched by the ragged remnants of the keys, 
 and tongues of the laft year; which mixed 
 with the bloom, have a good effect. 
 
 The elm too throws out a beautiful bloom, 
 in form of a fpicated ball, about the bignefs 
 of a nutmeg, of a dark crimfon colour. This 
 bloom fometimes blows in fuch profufion, 
 as to thicken and inrich the fpray exceedingly; 
 even to the fulnefs almoft of foliage. It is 
 
 not
 
 ( "5 ) 
 
 not however often feen in fuch perfection. 
 In the fpring of the year 1776, it was more 
 than commonly profufe. Indeed the bloom 
 of foreft-trees in general is rarely annual; it 
 appears in profufion only every fecond, or 
 third year; and even then, feldom all the 
 Irees of the fame kind bloom at once. Thus, 
 when you look into a grove of oaks, about 
 the beginning of may, you will fuppofe per- 
 haps, that fome are much forwarder in leaf 
 than others ; whereas in fad: this appearance 
 chiefly arifes from their being in bloom ; their 
 little penfile catkins hanging in knots, adorned 
 with tufts of young leaves. 
 
 Having thus made a few obfervations on 
 the forms of trees, their different modes of 
 growth, and other peculiarities ; I mould add, 
 that I am far from fuppoiing, nature to acl: 
 always in exatt conformity to the appear- 
 ances, which I have here marked. In the 
 general mode of growth, which each fpecies 
 obferves, no doubt, me is uniform : but in 
 the particular manner, in which the ftem 
 rifes, the branches (hoot, the foliage hangs, 
 and indeed, if I may fo fpeak, in the fpecific 
 I 2 character
 
 character of each individual, many circum- 
 fiances will make a difference ; foil and climate 
 efpecially. Thefe have the fame effect on 
 the form of trees, which they have on ani- 
 mal life. We not only fee diflant parts 
 of the earth, but even contiguous countries 
 exhibit varieties in the fame 'fpecies of 
 animals. The Englifh and Scotch horfe are 
 very different creatures. And as climates and 
 foils are ftlll more connected with trees, 
 than with animals, we may obferve a greater 
 difference produced, within a fmaller diflance. 
 The oak of one country differs in form from 
 the oak of another. In one, it carries art 
 erect ftem for many yards from the ground : 
 in another, it's branches begin quickly to 
 divide, and ftraggle. In the former fituation 
 the foliage may be thick, and interwoven ; in 
 the latter, it may be thin, and meagre. The 
 obfervations therefore, which we have made 
 on the form of trees, cannot in many minute 
 circumftances be fuppofed to fuit the indi- 
 viduals of every country. They were chiefly 
 made on the trees of New-foreft in Hampfhire \ 
 the foil of which, in general, is a hungry gravel, 
 or a cold clay. 
 
 SECT.
 
 SECT. VI. 
 
 I SHOULD now difmifs the fubject of 
 trees as individuals, and haften to conlider 
 them in a combined Jiate, in which they will 
 appear to moft advantage : but as many trees, 
 as well as men, have diftinguimed themfelves 
 in the world -, it feemed proper to dedicate 
 a few pages to the particular mention of fome 
 of thefe celebrated characters, before I conclude 
 that part of my treatife, which is profefTedly 
 written to do honour to Jingle frees. 
 
 But firft, it -cannot be enough lamented 
 by the lovers of landfcape, that we meet 
 with fo few of thefe noble characters. Trees 
 indeed, fufficient for all the purpofes of dif- 
 tant fcenery, we often find ; but a tree in 
 full perfection, as a grand object to grace 
 I 3 ifore-
 
 a foreground, is rarely feen. Wherever trees 
 can be turned to profit, they are commonly 
 cut down, long before they attain pidturefque 
 perfection. The beauty of almoft every fpecies 
 of tree increafes after it's prime ; and unlefs 
 it have the good fortune to ftand in fome 
 place of difficult accefs j or under the pro- 
 teclion of fome patron, whofe manlion 
 it adorns, we rarely fee it in that gran- 
 deur and dignity, which it would acquire by 
 age. 
 
 Some of the nobleft oaks in England were 
 at leaft formerly found in SulTex. They re- 
 quired fometimes a fcore of oxen to draw 
 them; and were carried in a fort of wain, 
 which in that deep country, is expreffively 
 called a tugg. Two or three years was not 
 an uncommon fpace of time for a tree to 
 to fpend in performing it's journey to Chatham. 
 One tugg carried the load but a little way, 
 and left it for another tugg to take up. If 
 the rains fet in, it ftirred no more that 
 year; and fometimes no part of the next 
 fummer was dry enough for the tugg to 
 proceed. So that the timber was generally 
 
 pretty
 
 ( "9 ) 
 
 pretty well feafoned, before it arrived at the 
 king's yard. I fuppofe the fame mode of 
 carriage ftill continues. 
 
 In this fallen ftate alone, it is true, the 
 tree becomes the bails of England's glory. 
 Tho we regret it's fall therefore, we muft 
 not repine ; but addrefs the children of the 
 wood, as the gallant oak, on his removal 
 from the foreft, is faid to have addreffed the 
 fcion by his fide. 
 
 Where thy great grandfire fpread his awful fhade, 
 
 A holy druid myftic circles made. 
 
 Myfelf a fapling, when thy grandfire bore 
 
 Intrepid Edward to the Gallic fhore. 
 
 Me now my country calls: Adieu, my fon, 
 
 And as the circling years in order run, 
 
 May'ft thou renown'd, the foreft's boaft, and pride, 
 
 Victorious in fome future conteft ride. 
 
 Nobody, that I know, has more patheti- 
 cally lamented the fall of trees, than the 
 elegant Vanier. Whoever has a tafte for the 
 fubjeft, will be gratified by the following 
 quotation. 
 
 Neque enim villis accedere major 
 Poffit houos, densa quam nubilus arbore lucus. 
 Sylvarum ftudiofa, fuos cum Gallia quondam 
 Vix aleret cives, patria migrare reli&a, 
 
 I 4 Atque
 
 Atque peregrines alio deferre penates 
 Maluit, excifis viclum quam quasrere fylvis. 
 Hsec ubi jam nemorum reverentia tanta, bipennes 
 Ut teneat ? noftros ubi grandior ulla per agros 
 Quercus ad annofam, ferri fecura, feneftam 
 Durat ? inacceffis nifi confita montibus, ipfo 
 Se defenfa loco tucatur: fi qua fuperfunt 
 A patribus nemora ad feros tranfmifla nepotes, 
 Ilia nee seftivo frondent impervia foli, 
 Nobile nee coelo caput abdunt, qualia quondam 
 Vulgus adorabat truncis pracera verendis. 
 Sed veteri de ftirpe, novo furgentia ramo, 
 Et quatuor poft luftra nigros vifura caminos. 
 Vix Jepori hofpitium praebent, fylveftribus olim 
 Quae timidas latebris damas urfofque tegebant. 
 Ecquis honos ruris, nemorum fi gratia defit ; 
 Obfeflufque domi maneas, cum Sirius ardens 
 Debacchatur agris ; viridique fub ilicis umbra 
 Irriguo poflis nee aeftivos ramorum frigore foles 
 Frangere, nee taciti per arnica filentia luci, 
 Multifonos avium concentus inter, ad aptos 
 Sponte fua veniens numeros, contexere carmen*'. 
 
 As it is thus a general complaint that noble 
 trees are rarely to be found, we muft feek 
 them where we can; and confider them when 
 found, as matters- of curiofity 3 and pay them 
 a due refpect. 
 
 And yet I mould fuppofe they are not fo 
 frequently found in a ftate of nature, as in 
 
 Praed. rufticum, lib. v. 
 
 more
 
 more cultivated countries. In the forefts of 
 America, and other fcenes, where boundlefs 
 woods have filled the plains from the begin- 
 ning of time, and where they grow fo clofe, 
 and cover the ground with fo impervious a 
 made, that even a weed can fcarce rife beneath 
 them, the fmgle tree is loft. Unlefs it ftand 
 on the outfkirts of the wood, it is circum- 
 fcribed ; and has not room to expand it's vaft 
 limbs, as nature, directs. When we wilh 
 therefore to find the moft fublime fylvan 
 character the oak, the elm, or the am in 
 perfection, we muft not look for it in clofe, 
 thick woods ; but {landing fmgle, independent 
 of all connections, as we fometimes find it 
 in our own forefts, tho oftener in better pro- 
 tected places, mooting it's head wildly into 
 the clouds, and fpreading it's arms towards 
 every wind of heaven. 
 
 -The oak 
 
 Thrives by the rude concuffion of the ftorm. 
 
 He feems indignant ; and to feel 
 
 The impreflion of the blaft with proud difdain : 
 
 But, deeply earthed, the unconfcious monarch owes 
 
 His firm {lability to what he fcorns; 
 
 More fixed below, the more difturbed above. 
 
 if
 
 ( 122 ) 
 
 If I chofe to lengthen my catalogue of 
 celebrated trees, I might produce an innu- 
 merable hofl of fuch as have been mentioned 
 cafually by hiftorians, and travellers, in all 
 ages : as the plane-tree hanging over the 
 temple of Delphos, which Theophraftus fup- 
 pofes was as ancient as the times of Agamemnon 
 that alfo by which Socrates ufed to fwear 
 the olive-tree at Linturnum, planted by Scipio 
 Africanus the tilia of Bafil, under which the 
 German emperors ufed to dine the malus 
 medica at the monaftery of Fundi reverenced 
 by Thomas Aquinas the oak at Bruges, 
 which Francis the firft immured the lime- 
 tree in Sweden, which gave name to the family 
 of the celebrated Linnaeus trees which captain 
 Cook found in the Weftern parts of California, 
 meafuring fixty feet in circumference, and 
 rifmg to the height of one hundred and fifty 
 feet without a fingle knot folid trees, which 
 have been fcooped into canoes, capable of 
 holding thirty or forty men ; particularly one, 
 on record, at Congo, which held two hun- 
 dred. I might add alfo Arthur's table, in the 
 county-hall of Winchefter, which has been 
 
 cut
 
 ( 123 ) 
 
 cut out of a tree of immenfe girth. The 
 Cheltenham-oak alfo might be introduced, 
 which as near it's roots as you can walk, 
 exceeds twenty paces round the Cawthorpe- 
 oak likewife, which at the ground exceeded 
 twenty-fix yards the Bently-oak in Holt- 
 foreft, which at feven feet from the ground, 
 was thirty-four feet in circumference the 
 Swilcar-oak in Needwood-foreft, which, I be- 
 lieve was equal to any of them*. With an 
 innumerable lift of this kind I might fwell my 
 page : but I rejecl: all fuch trees, as have either 
 been only cafually mentioned or have had their 
 value merely afcertained by a timber-merchant's 
 rule And yet all thefe have been trees famous 
 in their day -, fome of them are ftill alive ; and 
 if I were writing a biographical hiftory of trees, 
 I mould be glad to infert them, having a 
 reverence for them all. Where one tree attains 
 this noble growth ; and makes itfelf confpi- 
 cuous, thoufands, and ten thoufands reach 
 only the ordinary fize of nature. The few 
 pages however at prefent on my hands, I 
 
 * Many of thefe trees are mentioned by Mr. Evelin, and 
 the reft %re colle&ed from the topographical remarks of travel- 
 lers, and hiflotians. 
 
 mould
 
 ( 124 ) 
 
 Should wifh to allot to fuch trees only, as have 
 fomewhat more of hiftpry, and anecdote an- 
 nexed to them. 
 
 One of the inoft celebrated trees on ancient 
 record, was an oriental plane, which grew in 
 Phrygia. It's dimenfions are not handed down 
 to us ; but from the following circumftances, 
 we may fuppofe them to have been very ample. 
 When Xerxes fet out on his Grecian expedi- 
 tion, his route led him near this noble tree, 
 Xerxes, it feems, was a great admirer of trees. 
 Amidft all his devaftations in an enemy's coun- 
 try, it was his particular order to fpare the 
 groves. This wonderful plane therefore flruck 
 his fancy. He had feen nothing like it before 5 
 and to the aftonifhrnent of all his officers, or- 
 ders were difpatched to the right, and left 
 of his mighty hoft to halt three days ; during 
 which time he could not be drawn from 
 the Phrygian-plane. His pavilion was fpread 
 under it ; and he enjoyed the luxury of it's 
 delicious made -, while the Greeks were taking 
 
 meafures to feize the pafs at Thermopylae 
 
 The ftory may not fpeak much in favour of the 
 
 prince ;
 
 ( '25 ) 
 
 prince \ but it is my bufmefs only to pay 
 honour to the tree*. 
 
 In Arcadia, at the foot of the mountains, 
 bounding the Stymphalian plains (famous for 
 one of the labours of Hercules) flood the little 
 town of Caphiae ; and juft above it rofe a 
 fountain, called the Menalaid fountain ; by the 
 fide of which Paufanias tells us-)-, grew a 
 plane-tree of extraordinary fize and beauty, 
 called the Menalaid-plane. It was generally 
 believed in the country, he tells us, that 
 Menelaus coming to Caphias to raife forces 
 for the Trojan war, planted this tree with 
 his own hands. Paufanias travelled through 
 Greece in the reign of Antoninus Pius who 
 fucceeded to the empire, A. D. 1 5 1 . So that the 
 age of the tree, when Paufanias faw it, muft 
 have been about a thoufand, three hundred years. 
 
 I mall next exhibit another plane-tree of 
 great celebrity, which flourifhed in Lycia, 
 
 * This account is taken from Elian, f Pau Arcad. c. 23. 
 
 during
 
 ( 126 ) 
 
 during the reigns of the Roman Caefars. 
 From a vaft ftem it divided into feveral huge 
 boughs ', every one of which had the confe- 
 quence of a large tree ; and at a diftance the 
 whole together exhibited the appearance of a 
 grove. It's branches ftill flourished, while it's 
 trunk decayed. This in procefs of time moul- 
 dered into an immenfe cave, at leaft eighty 
 feet in circumference -, around the lides of 
 which were placed feats of pumice ftone ; 
 cufhioned foftly with mofs. This tree was 
 firft brought into repute by Licinius Mutianus, 
 governor of Lycia. Licinius was a curious 
 man; and not unverfed in natural hiftory. 
 Pliny, from whom we have the account of the 
 tree, has thought proper to quote him fre- 
 quently ; mentioning particularly his remarks 
 on Egyptian paper * ; and alfo on that kind 
 of wood, of which the ftatue of Diana at 
 Ephefus was made-)-. With the Lycian-plane 
 Licinius was exceedingly pleafed ; and often 
 enjoyed the company of his friends under it's 
 made. It was great luxury, he would fay, to 
 dine in it's trunk on a fultry fummer-day ; 
 
 * Lib. xiii. c. 13. f Lib. xvi. c. 40. 
 
 and
 
 ( 127 ) 
 
 and to hear a heavy mower of rain defcending 
 through the feveral ftages of it's leaves. As 
 a naturalift, he left it on record, that himfelf 
 and eighteen other perfons, dined commodi- 
 oufly around the benches in the body of it. 
 
 Caligula had a tree of the fame kind at 
 his villa near Velitras. But Caligula's tree 
 appears to have been more complex, than 
 the Lycian-plane. It had not only a hollow 
 cave in it's trunk, which was capable of 
 holding fifteen perfons at dinner with a pro- 
 per fuit of the emperor's attendants : but, 
 if I underftand Pliny rightly*, it had ftories 
 alfo (probably artificial flooring) in the 
 boughs of the tree. Caligula ufed to call 
 it, his neft. 
 
 From the fame author we have an account 
 of four holm-trees-f-, ftill exifting in his 
 time, which were of great antiquity. Three 
 of them, he fays, flood upon the fite of 
 the ancient Tibur, which was a city older 
 
 Lib. xii. c. i t Lib. xvi. c. 44. 
 
 than
 
 ( 128 ) 
 
 than Rome -, and thefe trees were not only 
 older than Tibur; but were trees of con- 
 fequence in the days of Tiburtus, who founded 
 it. For tradition aflures us, fays Pliny, they 
 were the very trees, on which that hero ob- 
 ferved an ominous flight of birds, and was 
 determined by them in the fite of his town. 
 As Tiburtus was the fon of Amphiareus, who 
 died at Thebes a hundred years before the 
 Trojan war ; thefe trees, at the loweft cal- 
 culation, muft have been fourteen or fifteen 
 hundred years old, in the time of Pliny. 
 Tho this is far from being incredible, yet 
 as it re (Is wholly on tradition, we pay it the 
 lefs attention. What Pliny fays in favour of 
 the fourth tree however has fomewhat more of 
 weight. This tree, he tells us, grew in the 
 Vatican ; and had it's age infcribed in old Tuf- 
 can characters, upon it's trunk ; from which 
 infcription it appeared, that before the city 
 of Rome had it's exiftence, this holm was 
 a celebrated tree. 
 
 When Tiberius built his naumachia, and 
 had occafion for large beams in feveral parts 
 of his work, he endeavoured to colled: them 
 
 from
 
 ( 129 ) 
 
 from the various foreftsofthe empire. Among 
 other mafTy pieces of timber, which were 
 brought to Rome on this occafion, the trunk 
 of a larch was of fo prodigious a fize, that 
 the emperor, inftead of uling it in his works, 
 ordered it to be laid up as a curiofity. It 
 meafured a hundred and twenty feet in 
 length, carrying a diameter of two feet to 
 the very end*. When this larch was alive, 
 with all the furniture of it's vaft top, and 
 gigantic limbs, in proportion to fuch a trunk, 
 it muft have been an aftonifhing tree. 
 
 The large ft tree that ever was known to be 
 brought into Britain, formed the main mail 
 of the Royal Sovereign in queen Ann's time. 
 It was ninety feet long ; and thirty-five inches 
 in diameter -f-. 
 
 Mr. Evelin, from whom we have this 
 account, mentions in the fame place, a ftill 
 larger tree, which formed the keel of the 
 Crown, a French fhip of the laft century. 
 It was a hundred and twenty feet long, 
 
 * Plin. Nat. hift. 1. xvi. c. 40. f Sylva, p. 228. 
 
 VOL. i. K which
 
 which is the length of Tiberius's larch ; 
 tho it had not probably the circumference of 
 that tree. 
 
 The mails of our (hips of war, at prefent, 
 are never made of fingle trees. It is the 
 method to lay two or three trees together, 
 and fitting them clofe to each other, to bind 
 them tight at proper diftances with pitched 
 ropes, and collars of iron. But a very noble 
 fir was lately brought into England, which 
 was not fpliced in the common mode, but 
 was converted in it's full dimenfions, into the 
 bowfprit of the Britannia, a new mip of a 
 hundred and ten guns ; in which capacity, I 
 have heard, it ferves at prefent. This fir 
 was ninety-fix feet in length -, and had, I 
 believe, the full diameter of Tiberius's larch. 
 
 Maundrel tells us, that when he travelled 
 into the Eaft, a few of the old cedars of Lebanon 
 were ftill left. He found them among the 
 fnow near the higheft part of the moun- 
 tain. " I meafured one of the largeft of 
 them, fays he, and found it twelve yards, 
 fix inches in girt ; and yet found : and thirty- 
 feven yards in the fpread of it's boughs. 
 
 At
 
 ( '3' ) 
 
 At about five or fix yards from the ground, 
 it divided into five limbs ; each of which was 
 a mafly tree/' 
 
 A later traveller, Van Egmont, who vifited 
 the fcenes of mount Lebanon, fe^ms alfo to 
 fpeak of the fame trees, which Maundrel 
 mentions. He obferved them, he fays, to 
 be of different ages. The old ftandards had 
 low ftems ; growing like fruit trees. Whereas 
 the younger made a much more {lately ap- 
 pearance, not a little refembling pines. Of 
 the ancient trees he faw only eleven : thofe 
 of younger growth far exceeded that number. 
 Some of thefe old cedars were four, or five 
 fathoms in circumference. Under one of them 
 was erected an altar ; where the clergy of 
 Tripoli, and the neighbouring convent of Maf- 
 furki fometimes celebrated mafs. From this 
 tree fpread five limbs, refembling fubftantial 
 trees, each being about an hundred feet in 
 length ; and inferted into the main trunk about 
 fourteen, or fifteen feet from the ground. 
 
 Thefe are noble dimenfions, tho it is pro- 
 bable, that the befl of the trees now left 
 upon mount Lebanon, are only the refufe of 
 the ancient race; as we may well fuppofe, 
 the beft were occafionally taken firfl. If 
 K 2 Solomon's
 
 Solomon's botanical works had ftill been pre- 
 ferved, it is probable we mould have met 
 with trees of much larger dimenfions, than 
 thofe, which either Maundrel, or Van Egmont 
 dneafured. 
 
 One of the nobleft trees on record, is a 
 chefnut upon mount ^Etna, called the Caf- 
 tagna de cento cavalli. It is ftill alive, but 
 has loft much of it's original dignity. Many 
 travellers take notice of it. Brydone was one 
 of the laft who faw it. His account is dated 
 about fixteen, or feventeen, years ago. It had 
 then the appearance of five diftindt trees. 
 The fpace within them, he was aflured, had 
 once been filled with folid timber, when the 
 whole formed only one tree. The poffibility 
 of this he could not at firft conceive ; for the 
 five trees together contained a fpace of two 
 hundred and four feet in circumference. At 
 length however he was convinced, not only 
 by the teftimony of the country, and the 
 accurate examination of the canon Recupero, 
 a learned naturalift in thofe parts, but by the 
 appearance of the trees themfelves, none of 
 which had any bark on the infide. This 
 
 chefnut
 
 ( '33 ) 
 
 chefnut is of fuch renown, that Brydone tells 
 us, he had feen it marked in an old map of 
 Sicily, publimed a hundred years ago*. 
 
 Among other authors, who mention this 
 tree, Kircher gives us the following account of 
 it's condition in his day ; which might be 
 about a century before Brydone faw it; 
 " Oftendit mihi viae dux, unius caftanias 
 corticem, tantas magnitudinis, ut intra earn 
 integer pecorum grex, a paftoribus tanquam 
 in caula commodiffima, noctu intercluderetur." 
 From this account, one mould imagine, that 
 in- Kircher's days the five trees were more 
 united, than when Brydone faw them. 
 
 At Nieftad, in the duchy of Wirtemberg, 
 flood a lime, which was for many ages ib 
 remarkable, that the city frequently took it's 
 denomination from it, being often called 
 Nieftad ander grafjen linden, or Nieftad near 
 the great lime. Scarce any perfon palled near 
 Nieftad, without viliting this tree ; and many 
 princes and great men did honour to it, by 
 
 * See Brydone's trav. vol. i. p. 117. 
 
 K 3 building
 
 ( '34 ) 
 
 building obelilks, columns, and monuments 
 of various kinds around it, engraved with their 
 arms, and names, to which the dates were 
 added, and often fome device. Mr. Evelin*, 
 who procured copies of feveral of thefe monu- 
 mental infcriptions, tells us, there were near 
 two hundred of them. The columns on which 
 they were fixed, ferved alfo to bear up the 
 vafl limbs of the tree, which began through 
 age to become unweildly. Thus this mighty 
 plant flood many years in great flate, the 
 ornament of the town, the admiration of the 
 country, and fupported, as it were, by the 
 princes of the empire. At length it felt the 
 effects of war. Nieflad was furrounded by 
 an enemy, and the limbs of this venerable 
 tree were mangled in wantonnefs by the be- 
 lieging troops. Whether it flill exifl, I know 
 not: but long after thefe injuries, it flood a 
 noble ruin, difcovering by the foundations of 
 the feveral monuments, which formerly prop- 
 ped it's fpreading boughs, how far it's limits 
 had once extended. 
 
 * See Ev. Sylva, page 225, 
 
 A plane
 
 ( '35 ) 
 
 A plane of the fame enormous growth, is 
 mentioned by a late traveller*, at the city 
 of Cos. It flands in the center of the market- 
 place, and overfpreads the whole area of it. 
 But it's vaft limbs, bending with their own 
 weight, require fupport : and the inhabitants 
 of Cos have fupported them in a ftill grander 
 ftile, than the lime at Nieftad is fupported. 
 The whole city is overfpread with the ruins 
 of antiquity; and fome of the choicefl co- 
 lumns of marble, and granite, which had for- 
 merly adorned temples, and porticos, have 
 been collected, and brought to prop the limbs 
 of this vaft tree. Tho the pidturefque eye 
 is not fond of thefe adventitious fupports, and 
 would rather fee the boughs bending to the 
 ground under their own weight > yet if they 
 are proper any where, they are proper in 
 fuch a fituation as this ; where the tree fills 
 the whole area of a market place with it's 
 extended boughs ; and is connected with the 
 houfes on every fide by the pillars, which 
 
 fupport them. Some fuch idea as this very 
 
 probably gave birth to that beautiful form in 
 Gothic architecture, of a circular room, whofe 
 
 f Voyage pittorefque de la Grece. 
 
 K 4 dome
 
 ( '36 ) 
 
 dome is fupported by a fingle column, nfing 
 from the center, and ramifying over the roof. 
 We have two or three fuch appendages of 
 cathedrals in England, under the name of 
 chapter-houfes. The moft beautiful I know, 
 is at Salifbury, which I fcruple not to call 
 one of the moft pleafing ideas in architecture. 
 The plane at Cos is greatly revered by all 
 the inhabitants of the city. Much of their 
 public bulinefs is tranfadted in the market- 
 place. There too they hold their little focial 
 meetings -, and we may eaiily conceive the 
 luxury, in fuch a climate, of a grand leafy- 
 canopy, to fkreen them from the fervour of 
 the fun. To add to the beauty, and conve- 
 nience of this very delicious fcene, a fountain 
 of limpid water bubbles up near the root? 
 of the tree. 
 
 As a parallel to thefe trees, I {hall next 
 celebrate the lime of Cleves. This alfo was 
 a tree of great magnificence. It grew in an 
 open plain, juir. at the entrance of the city, 
 and was thought an object worthy to exercife 
 the tafte of magiftracy. The burgomafter of 
 his day had it furveyed with great accuracy, 
 and trimmed into eight, broad, pyramidal 
 
 faces.
 
 ( '37 ) 
 
 faces. Each corner was fupported by a hand- 
 fome ftone pillar; and in the middle of the 
 tree among the branches, was cut a noble 
 room ; which the vaft fpace contained within, 
 eafily fuffered, Avithout injuring the regularity 
 of any of the eight faces. To crown all, the 
 top was curioufly clipped into fome kind of 
 head, and adorned artificially; but in what 
 manner, whether with the head of a lion, or 
 a flag, a weather cock, or a fun dial, we 
 are not told. It was fomething however in 
 
 the higheft ftile of Dutch tafte. This tree 
 
 was long the admiration, and envy of all the 
 ftates of Holland ; and Mr. Evelin, from whom 
 we have the relation, feems to have thought 
 it a piece of excellent workmanmip : " I needed 
 not, fays he, have charged this paragraph 
 with half thefe trees, but to mew how much 
 more the lime-tree feems difpofed to be wrought 
 into thefe arborious wonders, than other trees 
 of flower growth*." 
 
 The oaks of Chaucer are celebrated, in 
 the annals of poetry, as the trees, under which 
 
 Sylva, p. 225. 
 
 the
 
 laughing fage 
 Carolled his moral fong 
 
 They grew in the park at Donnington-caftle, 
 near Newbery, where Chaucer fpent his latter 
 
 life in ftudious retirement. The largeft of 
 
 thefe trees was called the kings-oak, and 
 carried an erect ftem of fifty feet, before it 
 broke into branches, and was cut into a beam, 
 
 five feet fquare. The next in fize was called 
 
 the queen 's-oak, and furvived the calamities of 
 the civil wars in king Charles's time ; tho 
 Donnington-caftle, and the country around it, 
 were fo often the fcene of action, and defola- 
 tion. It's branches were very curious : they 
 pumed out from the ftem in feveral uncommon 
 directions ; imitating the horns of a ram, 
 rather than the branches of an oak. When it 
 was felled, it yielded a beam forty feet long, 
 without knot, or blemim, perfectly ftrait, four 
 feet fquare at the but-end, and near a yard at 
 
 the top. The third of thefe oaks was 
 
 called Chaucer's, of which we have no parti- 
 culars : in general, only we are told, that it 
 was a noble tree, tho inferior to either of the 
 others*. None of them, I mould fuppofe 
 
 * See Evelin's Sylva, p. 227. 
 
 from
 
 ( '39 ) 
 
 from this account, was a tree of pi&urefque 
 beauty. A flrait flem, of forty or fifty feet, 
 let it's head be what it will, can hardly pro- 
 duce a pidlurefque form. When we admired 
 the flone-pine, we fuppofed it's flem to take 
 a fweeping line; and to be broken alfo with 
 flumps, or decayed branches. 
 
 Clofe by the gate of the water-walk, at 
 Magdalen college in Oxford, grew an oak, 
 which perhaps flood there a faplin, when 
 Alfred the great founded the univerfity. This 
 period only includes a fpace of nine hundred 
 years, which is no great age for an oak. It 
 is a difficult matter indeed to afcertain the age 
 of a tree. The age of a caflle, or abbey is 
 the objec~l of hiflory. Even a common houfe 
 is recorded by the family, that built it. All 
 thefe objeds arrive at maturity in their youth, 
 if I may fo fpeak. But the tree gradually 
 compleating it's growth, is not worth record- 
 ing in the early part of it's exiflence. It is 
 then only a common tree ; and afterwards 
 when it becomes remarkable for it's age, the 
 memory of it's youth is forgotten. This tree 
 however can almofl produce hiflorical evidence 
 
 for
 
 for the age it boafts. About five hundred 
 years after the time of Alfred, William of 
 Wainfleet, Dr. Stukely tells us, exprefsly 
 ordered his college to be founded near the 
 great oak * -, and an oak could not well be 
 lefs than five hundred years of age, to merit that 
 title ; together with the honour of fixing the 
 fite of a college. When the magnificence of 
 cardinal Wolfey erected that handfome tower, 
 which is fo ornamental to the whole building, 
 this tree might probably be in the meridian 
 of it's glory ; or rather perhaps it had attained 
 a green old age. But it muft have been mani- 
 feftly in it's decline, at that memorable asra, 
 when the tyranny of James gave the fellows of 
 Magdalen fo noble an opportunity of with- 
 ftanding bigotry, and fuperftition. It was 
 much injured in Charles II's time, when 
 the prefent walks were laid out. It's roots 
 were difturbed ; and from that period it 
 declined fail -, and became reduced by degrees 
 to little more than a mere trunk. The oldeft 
 members of the univerfity can fcarce recoiled: 
 it in a better plight. But the faithful records of 
 
 * Itiner. curios. 
 
 hiftory
 
 ( HI ) 
 
 hiftory* have handed down it's ancient dimen- 
 fions. Through a fpace of fixteen yards, on 
 every fide from it's trunk, it once flung it's 
 boughs ; and under it's magnificent pavilion 
 could have fheltered with eafe three thoufand 
 men > tho in it's decayed ftate, it could, for 
 many years do little more than fhelter fome 
 lucklefs individual, whom the driving fhower 
 had overtaken in his evening walk. In the 
 fummer of the year 1788, this magnificent 
 ruin fell to the ground; alarming the college 
 with it's rufhing found. It then appeared how 
 precarioufly it had flood for many years. It's 
 grand tap-root was decayed ; and it had hold 
 of the earth only by two or three roots, of 
 which none was more than a couple of inches 
 in diameter. From a part of it's ruins a chair 
 has been made for the prefident of the college, 
 which will long continue it's memory. 
 
 Near Workfop grew an oak, which in 
 refpect both to it's own dignity, and the 
 dignity of it's fituation, deferves honourable 
 
 * See Dr. Plot's hift. of Oxf. ch. vi. fe<5\ 45. 
 
 mention.
 
 mention. In point of grandeur few trees 
 equalled it. It overfpread a fpace of ninety feet 
 from the extremities of it's oppofite boughs. 
 Thefe dimenfions will produce an area capable, 
 on mathematical calculation, of covering a 
 fquadron of two hundred and thirty-five horfe. 
 
 The dignity of it's ftation was equal to 
 
 the dignity of the tree itfelf. It ftood on a 
 point, where Yorkshire, Nottinghammire, and 
 Derbymire unite, and fpread it's made over a 
 portion of each. From the honourable ftation 
 of thus fixing the boundaries of three large 
 counties, it was equally refpedted through the 
 domains of them all - y and was known far and 
 wide, by the honourable diftinction of the 
 fhire-oak) by which appellation it was marked 
 among cities, towns, and rivers, in all the 
 larger maps of England*. 
 
 In the garden at Tortworth, in Glocefter- 
 mire, an old family- feat, belonging to lord 
 Ducie, grows a Spanim chefnut of great age, 
 and dimenfions. Traditional accounts fuppofe 
 it to have been a boundary-tree in the time of 
 
 * See Evelin's Sylva, p. 232. 
 
 king
 
 ( 143 ) 
 
 king John ; and I have met with other 
 accounts, which place it in the fame honour- 
 able ftation in the reign of king Stephen. 
 How much older it may be, we know not. 
 Confiderably older it probably was : for we 
 rarely make boundary-trees of faplins, and 
 off-fets ; which are liable to a thoufand ac- 
 cidents, and are unable to maintain, with 
 proper dignity, the ftation delegated to them. 
 
 This tree is at prefent in hands, which 
 
 juftly value, and protect it's age. It was 
 barely included within the garden-wall, which 
 bore hard upon it. Lord Ducie has lately 
 re'moved the incumbrance ; and at the fame 
 time applied frefh earth to the roots of the 
 tree, which feems to have inlivened it. So 
 late as in the year 1788 it produced great 
 quantities of chefnuts ; which tho fmall, were 
 
 fweet, and well flavoured. In the great 
 
 chefnut-caufe, mentioned a little above*, 
 between Barrington and Ducarel, this venerable 
 tree was called upon as an evidence ; and gave 
 a very refpe&able teftimony in favour of the 
 chefnuts. 
 
 * See page 64. 
 
 After
 
 After mentioning this chefnut, which has 
 been celebrated fo much, I cannot forbear 
 mentioning another, which is equally remark- 
 able for having never been celebrated at all, 
 tho it is one of the largeft trees, that per- 
 haps ever exifted in England. If it had ever 
 been noticed merely for it's bulk, I mould 
 have pafled it over among other gigantic plants 
 that had nothing elfe to boaft; but as no 
 hiftorian or antiquarian, fo far as I have 
 heard, hath taken the lead notice of it, I 
 thought it right from this very circumftance 
 to make up the omimon by giving it at leafl, 
 
 what little credit thefe papers could give. 
 
 This chefnut grows at a place called Wimley, 
 near Hitchen-priory in Hertfordshire. In the 
 year 1789, at five feet above the ground, it's 
 girth was fomewhat more than fourteen yards. 
 It's trunk was hollow, and in part open. But 
 it's vegetation was ftill vigorous. On one lide 
 it's vaft arms, mooting up in various forms, 
 fome upright, and others oblique, were 
 decayed, and peeled at the extremities j but 
 iflued from luxuriant foliage at their infertion 
 
 in
 
 ( 145 ) 
 
 in the trunk. On the other fide, the foliage 
 was flill full, and hid all decay. 
 
 In a glade of Hainhault-forefl in EfTex, 
 about a mile from Barkinfide, ftands an oak, 
 which has been known through many cen- 
 turies, by the name of Fairlop. The tradition 
 of the country traces it half way up the 
 Chriflian aera. It is flill -a noble tree, tho 
 it has now fuffered greatly from the depre- 
 dations of time. About a yard from the 
 ground, where it's rough fluted ftem is thirty- 
 fix feet in circumference, it divides into eleven 
 vaft arms ; yet not in the horizontal manner 
 of an oak, but rather in that of a beech. 
 Beneath it's made, which overfpreads an area 
 of three hundred feet in circuit, an annual 
 fair has long been held, on the 2d of July ; 
 and no booth is fuffered to be erected beyond 
 the extent of it's boughs. But as their ex- 
 tremities are now become faplefs, and age is 
 yearly curtailing their length, the liberties of 
 the fair feem to be in a defponding condition. 
 The honour however is great. But honours 
 are often accompanied with inconveniences ; 
 and Fairlop has fuffered from it's honourable 
 
 VOL. i. L diftindions.
 
 diflinctions. In the feafting that attends a 
 fair, fires are often neceilary; and no places 
 feemed fo proper to make them in, as the 
 hollow cavities formed by the heaving roots 
 of the tree. This practice has brought a 
 fpeedier decay on Fairlop, than it might 
 otherwife have fufFered. 
 
 Not far from Blanford, in Dorfetfhire, 
 flood very lately a tree, known by the name 
 of Damory's oak. About five or fix cen- 
 turies ago, it was probably in a ftate of 
 maturity. At the ground it's circumference 
 was fixty-eight feet ; and feventeen feet above 
 the ground it's diameter was four yards. As 
 this vafl trunk decayed, it became hollow, 
 forming a cavity, which was fifteen feet wide, 
 and feventeen feet high, capable of holding 
 twenty men. During the civil wars, and till 
 after the reftoration, this cave was regularly 
 inhabited by an old man, who fold ale in 
 it. In the violent ftorm in the year 1703, 
 it fufFered greatly, many of it's nobleft limbs 
 having been torn from it. But it was frill 
 fo grand a ruin, above forty years after, that 
 fome of it's branches were feventy-five feet 
 
 high;
 
 high ; and extended feventy-two. In the 
 year 1755 when it was fit for nothing but 
 firewood, it was fold for fourteen pounds*. 
 
 In Torwood, in the county of Sterling, 
 on a little knoll, ftand at this time, the 
 ruins of an oak, which is fuppofed to be the 
 largeft tree that ever grew in Scotland. The 
 trunk of it is now wholly decayed, and 
 hollow : but it is evident, from what remains, 
 that it's diameter could not have been lefs 
 than eleven or twelve feet. What it's age 
 may be, is matter only of conjecture : but 
 from fome circumftances, it is probably a 
 tree of great antiquity. The little knoll it 
 {lands on, is furrounded by a fwamp, over 
 which a caufeway leads to the tree, or rather 
 to a circle which feems to have run round 
 it. The veftiges of this circle, as well as 
 the caufeway, bear a plain refemblance to 
 thofe works which are commonly attributed 
 to the Druids. So that it is probable, this 
 tree was a fcene of worfhip belonging to thofe 
 
 * See Hutchins's ace. of Dorfetfhire, vol. I. with a print of it. 
 
 L 2 heathen
 
 heathen priefts. But the credit of it does 
 not depend on the dubious veftiges of Druid 
 antiquity. In a later fcene of greater impor- 
 tance, (if tradition ever be the vehicle of 
 truth) it bore a great {hare. When that 
 illuftrious hero, William Wallace, roufed the 
 fpirit of the Scotch nation to oppofe the 
 tyranny of Edward, he often chofe the foli- 
 tude of Torwood, as a place of rendezvous 
 for his army. Here he concealed his num- 
 bers, and his deligns ; fallying out fuddenly 
 on the enemy's garrifons, and retreating as 
 fuddenly, when he feared to be overpowered. 
 While his army lay in thofe woods, the oak, 
 which we are now commemorating, was com- 
 monly his head-quarters. Here the hero 
 generally flept -, it's hollow trunk being ca- 
 pacious enough to afford fhelter, not only 
 to himfelf, but to feveral of his officers. 
 This tree has ever fince been known by 
 the name of Wallace-tree' -, by which name 
 it may eafily be found in Torwood to this 
 day*. 
 
 * See Nimmo'b hift. of Sterlingfliire, p. 145. 
 
 among
 
 Among thefe celebrated trees we muft not 
 forget Hern's oak in Windfor-foreft. Shake- 
 fpear tells us, 
 
 an old tale goes, that Hern- the hunter, 
 Sometime a keeper here in Windfor foreft, 
 Doth all the winter time, at ftill of midnight, 
 Walk round about this oak, with ragged horns ; 
 And then he blafls the trees, deftroys the cattle, 
 Makes the milch-cow yield blood, and fhakes a chain 
 In hideous, dreadful manner ' 
 
 This tree, as fat as we can pay credit to 
 tradition, and general opinion, ftill exifts. 
 In the little park at Windfor is a walk, known 
 by the name of Queen Elizabeth's walk. It 
 confifts of elms, among which is a fmgle 
 oak taken into the row, as if particularly meant 
 to be diftinguimed, at the time, when the 
 walk was laid out. This tree is fuppoied 
 to be Hern's oak. It is a large tree, 
 meafuring about twenty-four feet in circum- 
 ference, and is ftill in great vigour; which 
 I think, chiefly injures it's hiftorical credit. 
 For tho it is evidently a tree in years, and 
 
 See Nimmo's hift. of Sterlingfhire, p. 145. 
 
 L 3 might
 
 ( '5 ) 
 
 might well have exifted in the time of 
 Elizabeth, it feems too ftrong, and vigorous 
 to have been a proper tree, in that age, for 
 Hern, the hunter, to have danced round. 
 Fairies, elves and that generation of people, 
 univerfally chofe the moft ancient, and ve- 
 nerable trees they could find, to gambol 
 under : and the poet, who mould defcribe 
 them dancing under a faplin, would mew 
 little acquaintance with his fubjecl:. That 
 this tree could not be called a venerable tree 
 two hundred years ago, is evident 5 becaufe 
 it hardly can aflume that character even now. 
 And yet an oak, in a foil it likes, will 
 continue fo many years in a vigorous ilate, 
 that we mufl not lay more ftrefs on this 
 argument, than it will fairly bear. It may 
 be added, however in it's favour, that a 
 pit or ditch, is frill mewn near the tree, 
 as Shakefpear defcribes it - y which may have 
 been preferved with the fame veneration, as 
 the tree itfelf. 
 
 There is an oak, in the grounds of Sir 
 Gerard Vanneck, at Heveningham, in Suf- 
 folk, which carries us likewife into the 
 
 times
 
 times of Elizabeth. But this tree brings 
 it's evidence with it evidence, which, if 
 neceflary, might carry it into Saxon times. 
 It is now falling faft into the decline of 
 years : and every year robs it more of it's 
 honours. But it's trunk, which meafures 
 thirty-five feet in circumference, ftill retains 
 it's grandeur - y tho the ornaments of it's 
 boughs, and foliage are much reduced. But 
 the grandeur of the trunk confifts only in 
 appearance. It is a mere mell. In Queen 
 Elizabeth's time it was hollow ; and from 
 this circumftance the tree derives the honour 
 of being handed down to pofterity. That 
 princefs, who from her' earlieft age loved 
 mafculine amufements, ufed often, it is faid, 
 in her youth, to take her {land in this tree, 
 and {hoot the deer as they pafled. From 
 that time it has been known by the name 
 of Queen Elizabeth's oak. 
 
 After celebrating the grandeur of thefe fons 
 of the foreft, I mould wiih to introduce, in 
 due fubordination, two or tree celebrated fruit- 
 trees. 
 
 L 4 In 
 
 ;
 
 ( '52 ) 
 
 In the deanery-garden at Winchefter flood 
 lately, (fo lately as the year 1757) an ancient 
 fig-tree. Through a fucceffion of many deans 
 it had been cafed up, and fhielded from winds, 
 and froft. The wall to which it was nailed, 
 was adorned with various infcriptions, ^in 
 Hebrew, Greek, and Latin -, alluding to fuch 
 pafTages of the facred writings, as do honour 
 to the fig-tree. After having been prefented 
 with feveral texts of fcripture, the reader was 
 informed, by way of climax, that in the year 
 1623, k* n & y^M^s ! tajled of the fruit of this 
 fig-tree with great pleafure. 
 
 At Lambeth likewife are two celebrated 
 fig-trees ; which, on good grounds, are fup- 
 pofed to have been planted by cardinal Pole. 
 They are immenfe trees of the kind ; covering 
 a fpace of wall, fifty feet in height, and forty 
 in breadth. The circumference of the ftem 
 of one of them is twenty-eight inches, and of 
 the other twenty-one. They are of the white 
 Marfeilles kind, and have for many years fur- 
 niilied the tables of the archbifhops of 
 Canterbury with very delicious fruit. 
 
 Among
 
 ( "53 ) 
 
 Among other remarkable fruit-trees may be 
 reckoned a vine belonging to the late Sir 
 Charles Raymond at Valentine-houfe, near 
 Ilford in Eflex. It was planted, a cutting, 
 in the year 1758, of the black Hambrugh 
 fort ; and as the fruit of this fpecies will not 
 eaiily ripen in the open air, it was planted in a 
 hot-houfe ; tho without any preparation of foil, 
 which is in thofe grounds a fliff loam, or 
 rather clay. The hot-houfe is a very large 
 one, about feventy feet in front ; and the vine, 
 which I understand, is pruned in a peculiar 
 manner, extends two hundred feet, part of it 
 running along the fouth wall on the outfide 
 of the hot-houfe. In the common mode of 
 pruning, this fpecies of vine is no great bearer ; 
 but managed as it is here, it produces wonder- 
 fully. Sir Charles Raymond, on the death 
 of his lady in 1778, left Valentine-houfe ; at 
 which time the gardener had the profits of the 
 vine. It annually produces about four hundred 
 weight of grapes ; which ufed formerly (when 
 the hot-houfe, I fuppofe, was kept warmer,) 
 to ripen in march : tho lately they have not 
 ripened till June ; when they fell at four 
 
 millings
 
 ( '54 ) 
 
 Shillings a pound ; which produces about 
 eighty pounds. This account I had from Mr. 
 Eden himfelf, the gardener, who planted the 
 
 vine. With regard to the profits of it, I 
 
 think it probable from the accounts I have had 
 from other hands, that when the grapes ripened 
 earlier, they produced much more than eighty 
 pounds. A gentleman of character informed 
 me, that he had it from Sir Charles Raymond 
 himfelf, that after fupplying his own table, he 
 has made a hundred and twenty pounds a 
 year of the grapes ; and the fame gentleman, 
 who was curious, inquired of the fruit-dealers, 
 who told him, that in fome years, they fup- 
 pofed the profits to have not amounted to lefs 
 than three hundred pounds. This does not 
 contradidt Mr. Eden's account, who faid, that 
 the utmoft he ever made of it (that is, I 
 fuppofe, when the grapes fold at four millings 
 a pound in June) was eighty-four pounds. At 
 the loweft calculation, the profits were pro- 
 digious. The ftem of this vine was, in the 
 
 year 1789, thirteen inches in circumference. 
 
 But the vine, even as a timber-tree, hath 
 it's place in hiftory. Mr. Miflbn, a traveller, 
 
 of
 
 ( '55 ) 
 
 of whom Mr. Addiibn fpeaks with particular 
 refpecl:, tells us*, that the gates of the great 
 church at Ravenna in Italy were made of vine 
 planks, twelve feet long, and fourteen or fifteen 
 inches broad. The vine from which thefe 
 planks were taken, muft have been an enor- 
 mous vegetable of it's kind. Indeed, if the 
 account had not been well attefled, it would 
 
 have exceeded credit. MiiTon adds, that 
 
 the foil about Ravenna, on the fide next the 
 fea, was remarkable for the enormous growth 
 of vines -, and he fuppofes, it was owing to the 
 rich manure left by the fea. For tho the town 
 of Ravenna in his day, flood a league from the 
 Adriatic -, yet it is an undoubted fact, that 
 the fea formerly warned it's walls -, and that 
 the prefent Ravenna occupies the fite of the 
 ancient Ravenna, which we know, was one 
 of the beft ports, the Romans had on the 
 Adriatic. 
 
 Having thus given the hiflory of fome of the 
 moil celebrated trees on record, I cannot help 
 
 * See Miflbn's travels in Italy. 
 
 fubjoining
 
 ( '56 ) 
 
 fubjoining an account of a few particular 
 fpecies, which are remarkably fingular. 
 
 In the memoirs of the French academy we 
 find a defcription of a very curious tree, by 
 Mr. Adanfon, called the Boabab. It is a native 
 of Senegal, and ihas been taken notice of by 
 Profper Alpinus, and other botanifts : but Mr. 
 Adanfon, who fpent feveral years in thofe 
 parts, feems to have had the beft opportunities 
 
 of being acquainted with it. As to it's 
 
 botanical peculiarities, which are great -, and 
 it's phyfical ufes, which are many, we enter 
 not into them. We have only to do with it's 
 external form, which is very uncommon. It 
 is fuppofed to be the largeft of nature's vege- 
 table productions the behemoth of the foreft. 
 From Mr. Adanfon's account one mould fup- 
 pofe the boabab to be a kind of natural pollard. 
 He tells us, it's trunk feldom rifes higher than 
 twelve feet ; tho it's diameter exceeds feventy. 
 From this amazing trunk fpring a number, of 
 marly branches. The center-branch rifes 
 perpendicularly fixty or feventy feet : the lateral 
 branches moot in angles lefs and lefs acute > 
 till the loweft feries form right angles with 
 the trunk ; and fo become horizontal. In 
 this direction, they ftretch fifty or fixty feet, 
 
 till
 
 ( '57 ) 
 
 till their weight brings them to the ground, 
 with which the extremities of many of them 
 are in contact. So that the whole tree has 
 the appearance of a woody hemifphere -, whofe 
 radius, including the thicknefs of the trunk, 
 muft be about eighty, or ninety feet. What- 
 ever may be faid for the peculiarity of fuch 
 a tree, we cannot fay much in favour of it's 
 pidlurefque form. It feems to be little more 
 than a monftrous bum. The bark of this tree 
 is of an afli-coloured tint. It's leaves are oval, 
 pointed at the end, and about five inches long. 
 Tho the boabab is a native of Africa, yet 
 a fmall one was found growing in the ifland 
 of Martinico. It is fuppofed however to 
 have been brought thither by fome negroe- 
 flave ; as it is common among thofe poor 
 people to carry about them feeds of different 
 kinds, as .charms and remedies : and it is 
 certain, that many African plants have been 
 propagated in the Weft-Indies in this ac- 
 cidental manner. 
 
 We have lately had an account of another 
 African tree, which is equally wonderful. 
 In fome private difpatches to the chairman 
 of the Siena-Leone company, one, relating to 
 the natural hiftory of the country, flates, that 
 
 in
 
 in the woods contiguous to the fettlement is 
 a filk-cotton-tree, which at five feet from the 
 ground, meafures fixty-eight feet in circum- 
 ference ; and at fifty feet from the ground, 
 thirty-one. The height of this tree is pro- 
 digious ; but the adjoining trees, crowding 
 round, prevent it's being accurately taken. 
 This account mentions the trees of this fpecies, 
 as the largeft in the country. 
 
 Mr. Evelin gives us the defcription of 
 another curious tree, called the Arbor de Rays, 
 which is found chiefly in the Eaft Indies, 
 and is remarkable for the manner, in which 
 it propagates. From the end of it's boughs 
 it diflils, in a continued vifcous thread, a 
 kind of gummy matter ; which increafes like 
 an icicle, till it reach the ground, where it 
 takes root, and becomes a ftem, putting 
 forth new branches, and propagating anew; 
 fo that a fingle plant of this kind may in- 
 creafe into a foreft. 
 
 Strabo defcribes an Indian tree, which I 
 mould fuppofe, was the fame with Mr. 
 Evelin's arbor de Rays; only Strabo accounts 
 more fimply for the mode of it's propagation. 
 
 It's
 
 It's branches, he fays, grow horizontally 
 about twelve cubits; and then take a direc- 
 tion to the earth, where they root themfelves ; 
 and when they have attained maturity, con- 
 tinue to propagate in the fame manner, till 
 the ground is covered with them for a con- 
 fiderable fpace -, or, as Strabo more expreffively 
 defcribes it, till the whole becomes like a 
 
 tent fupported by many columns*. This 
 
 feems to be the tree, of which Milton 
 fpeaks ; 
 
 Branching fo broad, and long, that in the ground 
 The bended twigs take root; and daughters grow 
 About the mother tree ; a pillared (hade, 
 High over-arched, with ecchoing walks between. 
 There oft the Indian herdfman, fliunning heat, 
 Shelters in cool; and tends his pafturing herds 
 At loop-holes cut through thickefl fliade. 
 
 Modern travellers fpeak of an Indian tree 
 like this, (the only tree of the kind they 
 know,) which they call the Banidn tree, or 
 Indian fig. In it's mode of propagation, it 
 correfponds rather with Strabo's defcription, 
 than Evelin's. We are informed however, 
 
 <rxuj O/*GIC., p. 694. edit. Caus. 
 
 that,
 
 ( 160 ) 
 
 that, altho common in India, it is not very 
 commonly found in that ftate of grandeur, 
 in which it is here defcribed. Nor indeed 
 will it eafily take that very regular form, 
 without fome little affiftance from, art. In- 
 ftead of the Indian berdfman, whom Milton 
 introduces, it is often at this day, inhabited 
 by a Bramin; who builds his little reed- 
 thatched med againft it's trunk > and amufes 
 his leifure by directing it's lengthening branches 
 into proper places ; and forming each into a 
 regular arch. Here, u dreffed in a long white 
 tunic, the habit of his order, and adorned 
 with a flowing beard, he fpends his folitary 
 hours in wandering among the verdant allies 
 of his tree, fcarce ever leaving it's limits. 
 The inhabitants of the diftrict refort daily 
 to him with the neceflaries of life ; and 
 receive, in return, his prayers, and benedic- 
 tions. 
 
 There is a tree in the ifland of Java, called the 
 Upas, or poifon-tree, which (in the hiftory 
 of curious trees) mould not be omitted ; tho 
 the accounts of it are fo wonderful, that 
 fome have efteemed them fabulous. They 
 
 are
 
 arc given to the public by a furgeon, be- 
 longing to the Dutch Eaft-India company, 
 of the name of Foerfch, who was ftationed 
 at Batavia in the year 1774. Surprizing 
 however as thefe accounts may be, they 
 are accompanied with fo many public facts ; 
 and names of perfons, and places, that it is 
 fomewhat difficult to conceive them fabulous. 
 
 The abridged narrative of this ftrange 
 
 production, is this. 
 
 The Upas grows about twenty-feven leagues 
 from Batavia, in a plain furrounded by rocky 
 mountains ; the whole of which plain, con- 
 taining a circle of ten, or twelve miles round 
 the tree, is totally barren. Nothing, that 
 breathes, or vegetates, can live within it's 
 influence. The bird, that flies over it, drops 
 down dead. The beaft, that wanders into it, 
 expires. The whole dreadful area is covered 
 with fand, over which lie fcattered loofe flints, 
 
 and whitening bones. This tree may be 
 
 called the emperor's great military magazine. 
 In a folution of the poifonous gum, which 
 exudes from it, his arrows, and ofFenfive 
 weapons are dipped. The procuring there- 
 fore of this poifonous gum, is a matter of 
 as much attention, as of difficulty. Criminals 
 
 VOL. i. M only
 
 only are employed in this dreadful fervice. 
 Of thefe feveral every year, are fent with 
 a promife of pardon, and reward, if they 
 procure it. Hooded in leathern cafes, with 
 glafs eyelet-holes, and fecured as much as 
 poffible from the full effluvia of the air they 
 are to breathe, they undertake this melancholy 
 journey; travelling always with the wind. 
 About one in ten efcapes, and brings away 
 a little box of this direful commodity. 
 
 Of the dreadful, and fudden effecT: of this 
 poifon, the author faw many inflances. He 
 mentions among others, the execution of 
 thirteen young ladies of the emperor's feraglio ; 
 who having been convicted of infidelity to 
 his bed, were condemned to die by the poifon 
 of Upas ; which is confidered in Java, like 
 the axe in England, an honourable inflrument 
 of death. At eleven o'clock in the fore- 
 noon thefe unhappy victims were led into 
 a court in the palace, where a row of thirteen 
 pofts had been creeled. To thefe they were 
 bound. As they flood trembling, they were 
 obliged to confefs the juftice of their fentence ; 
 which each of them did, by laying one hand 
 on the koran, and the other on her breaft. 
 When thefe confeflions were finifhed, and a 
 
 few
 
 ( 163 ) 
 
 few religious ceremonies, on a fign given by 
 the judge, an executioner ftepped forward, 
 who bared their breafls, and amidft their 
 cries, and fhrieks, with a poifoned lancet 
 made a flight incifion in each. The author 
 fays, he flood by with his watch in his hand. 
 In five minutes they were feized with con- 
 vulfive fpafms excruciating agonies fucceeded ; 
 and in fixteen minutes they were all dead. 
 A frightful change came on. From being 
 objects of beauty, they became fpectacles of 
 horror. Livid fpots broke out upon them. 
 Their faces fwelled : their cheeks became 
 blue ; and their eyes, yellow. 
 
 The author fays, that on the coaft of 
 Macaflar, there are found trees very like the 
 Upas of Java ; but not fo malignant. If fo, 
 it is probable, that all thefe trees are of the 
 fame kind ; only the Java-Upas has found 
 a fituation, where it's poifonous qualities are 
 more fublimed. 
 
 Dr. Darwin, in his Loves of the plants, 
 has given us a picture of the fituation of this 
 dreadful tree -, the exiftence of which he feems 
 to believe. 
 
 M a Where
 
 ( 164 ) 
 
 Where feas of glafs with gay reflexions fmile 
 Round the gr.een coafts of Java's palmy ifle; 
 A fpacious plain extends it's upland fcene, 
 Rocks rife on rocks, and fountains gum between. 
 Soft breathes the breeze; eternal fummers reign, 
 
 And fhowers prolific blefs the foil in vain! 
 
 No fpicy nutmeg fcents the vernal gales : 
 
 No towering plantain fhades the mid-day vales : 
 
 No grafly mantle hides the fable hills : 
 
 No flowery chaplet crowns the trickling rills : 
 
 No ftep retreating on the fand imprefled, 
 
 Invites the vifit of a fecond gueft. 
 
 Fierce in dread filence, on the blafted heath 
 
 Fell Upas fits. 
 
 That I may conned: this little biographical 
 hiftory of trees with the principal fubject of 
 my book, I mall conclude it with an account 
 of two, or three celebrated trees from New- 
 foreft, in Hamplhire. 
 
 The firft I mall mention, is that famous 
 tree, againft which the arrow of Sir Walter 
 Tyrrel glanced, which killed William Rufus. 
 
 Leland tells us, and Camden* from him, 
 that the death of Rufus happened at a place 
 in New-foreft, called Througham, where a 
 chapel was erected to his memory. But I 
 
 * See Camden's account of New-foreft. 
 
 meet
 
 meet with no place of the name of Througham 
 in New-foreft ; and neither the remains, nor 
 the remembrance of any chapel. It is pro- 
 bable, that Througham might be what is now 
 called Fritbam , where the tradition of the 
 country feems to have fixed thefpof with more 
 
 credibility from the tree. The chapel 
 
 might only have been fome little temporary 
 oratory, which having never been endowed, 
 might fpeedily have fallen to decay : but the 
 tree, it is probable, would be noticed at the 
 time by every body, who lived near it; and 
 by ftrangers, who came to fee it : and it is as 
 probable, that it could never be forgotten 
 afterwards. They who think a tree inefficient 
 to record a fact of fo ancient a date, may be 
 reminded, that feven hundred years, (and it is 
 not more fince the death of Rufus) make no 
 extraordinary period in the exiftence of an oak. 
 About fifty years ago however, this tree became 
 fo decayed, and mutilated, that, in all pro- 
 bability, the fpot would have been forgotten, 
 if fome other memorial had not been raifed. 
 Before the ftump therefore was eradicated, a 
 triangular ftone was erected, by the late lord 
 Delaware, who lived in one of the neigh- 
 M 3 bouring
 
 ( '66 ) 
 
 bouring lodges - y on the three fides of which 
 ftone the following infcriptions. are engraven, 
 i. 
 
 Here flood the oak-tree, on which an arrow, 
 jfhot by fir Walter Tyrrel at a ftag, glanced, 
 and ftruck king William II. furnamed Rufus, 
 in the breaft, of which {broke he inilantly died, 
 on the zd of auguft noo. 
 2. 
 
 King William II. being thus flain, was laid 
 on a cart, belonging to one Purkefs ; and 
 drawn from hence to Winchester, and buried 
 in the cathedral church of that city. . 
 
 3- 
 That the fpot, where an event fo memorable, 
 
 happened, might not hereafter be unknown; 
 this ftone was fet up by John lord Delaware, 
 who has feen the tree growing in this place. 
 
 Lord Delaware aflerts plainly, that he had 
 feen the oak-tree ; and as he lived much on the 
 fpot, he had probably other grounds for the 
 aflertion, befides the tradition of the country. 
 That matter however refts on his authority. 
 
 The
 
 i6 7 ) 
 
 The next tree I mall exhibit from New- 
 foreft, is the groaning-tree of Badefley ; a 
 village about two miles from Lymington. 
 The hiftory of the groaning-tree is this. 
 About forty years ago, a cottager, who lived 
 near the centre of the" village, heard frequently 
 a ftrange noife, behind his houfe, like that 
 of a perfon in extreme agony. Soon after, 
 it caught the attention of his wife, who was 
 then confined to her bed. She was a timorous 
 woman, and being greatly alarmed, her huf- 
 band endeavoured to perfuade her, that the 
 noife me heard, was only the bellowing of the 
 ftags in the foreft. By degrees, however, the 
 neighbours, on all fides heard it -, and the 
 thing began to be much talked of. It was 
 by this time plainly difcovered, that the 
 groaning noife proceeded from an elm, which 
 grew at the end of the garden. It was a 
 young, vigorous tree ; and to all appearance 
 perfectly found. 
 
 In a few weeks the fame of the groaning 
 
 tree was fpread far and wide ; and people from 
 
 all parts flocked to hear it. Among others it 
 
 attracted the curiofity of the late prince, and 
 
 M 4 princefs
 
 ( 168 ) 
 
 princefs of Wales, who refided, at that time 
 for the advantage of a fea-bath, at Pilewell, 
 the feat of fir James Worfley, which flood 
 within a quarter of a mile of the groaning- 
 tree. 
 
 Tho the country-people affigned many fuper- 
 flitious caufes for this flrange phenomenon, 
 the naturalift could affign no phyfical one, 
 that was in any degree fatisfactory. Some 
 thought, it was owing to the twifling and 
 friction of the roots. Others thought it pro- 
 ceeded from water, which had collected in 
 the body of the tree or perhaps from pent air. 
 But no caufe that was alledged, appeared equal 
 to the effect. In the mean time, the tree 
 did not always groan ; fometimes difappoint- 
 ing it's vifitants : yet no caufe could be af- 
 figned for it's temporary ceffations, either from 
 feafons, or weather. If any difference was 
 obferved ; it was thought to groan leall, 
 when the weather was wet ; and moil when 
 it was clear, and frofty : but the found at 
 all times feemed to arife from the root. 
 
 Thus the groaning-tree continued an object 
 of aftonilhment, during the fpace of eighteen, 
 or twenty months, to all the country around : 
 and for the information of diftant parts a 
 
 pamphlet
 
 ( 169 ) 
 
 pamphlet was drawn up, containing a par- 
 ticular account of all the circumftances re- 
 lating to it. 
 
 At length, the owner of it, a gentleman 
 of the name of Forbes, making too ram 
 an experiment to difcover the caufe, bored 
 a hole in it's trunk. After this it never 
 groaned. It was then rooted up, with a 
 farther view to make a difcovery : but flill 
 nothing appeared, which led to any invefti- 
 gation of the caufe. It was univerfally how- 
 ever believed, that there was no trick in the 
 affair : but that fome natural caufe really 
 exifted, tho never underftood. 
 
 Another celebrated tree, which I mall pre- 
 fent to the reader from New-foreft, is the 
 Cadenham oak, which buds every year in 
 the depth of winter. Cadenham is a village, 
 about three miles from Lyndhurft, on the 
 Salifbury road. 
 
 Having often heard of this oak, I took 
 a ride to fee it on the 2pth of december, 
 1781. It was pointed out to me among 
 feveral other oaks', furrounded by a little foreft 
 ftream, winding round a knoll, on which they 
 
 flood.
 
 ftood. It is a tall, flraight plant of no great 
 age, and apparently vigorous ; except that it's 
 top has been injured; from which feveral 
 branches iffue in the form of pollard moots. It 
 was intirely bare of leaves, as far as I could 
 difcern, when I faw it; and undiftinguimable 
 from the other oaks in it's neighbourhood; 
 except that it's bark feemed rather fmoother ; 
 occafioned, I apprehended, only by frequent 
 climbing. 
 
 Having had the account of it's early budding 
 confirmed on the fpot, I engaged one Michael 
 Lawrence, who kept the white hart, a fmall 
 ale-houfe in the neighbourhood, to fend me 
 fome of the leaves to Vicar's hill, as foon 
 as they mould appear. The man, who had 
 not the leaft doubt about the matter, kept 
 his word; and fent me feveral twigs, on the 
 morning of the 5th of January, 1782; a few 
 hours after they had been gathered. The 
 leaves were fairly expanded ; and about an 
 inch in length. From fome of the buds two 
 leaves had unfheathed themfelves ; but in 
 general only one. 
 
 Through what power in nature this ftrange, 
 premature vegetation is occafioned, I believe 
 
 no
 
 no naturalift can explain. I fent fome of the 
 leaves to one of the ableft botanifts we have 
 had, the late Mr. Lightfoot, author of the 
 Flora Scotica ; and was in hopes of hearing 
 fomething fatisfactory on the fubject. But he 
 was one of thofe philofophers, who was never 
 afhamed of ignorance, where attempts at know- 
 ledge are mere conjecture. He afliired me, 
 that he neither could account for it in any way; 
 nor did he know of any other inflance of pre- 
 mature vegetation, except the Glaftonbury- 
 thorn. 
 
 The philofophers of the foreft, in the mean 
 time, account for the thing at once, through 
 the influence of old Chriftmas-day - y univer- 
 fally believing that the oak buds on that 
 day, and that only. The fame opinion is 
 held with regard to the Glafbonbury-thorn 
 by the common people of the weft of 
 England. But without doubt, the germi- 
 nation there is gradual ; and forwarded, or 
 retarded by the mildnefs, or feverity of the 
 weather. One of it's progeny, which grew 
 in the gardens of the duchefs dowager of 
 Portland, at Bulflrode, had it's flower-buds 
 perfectly formed, fo early, as the 2ift of 
 
 december,
 
 december, 1781 ; which is fifteen days earlier 
 than it ought to flower, according to the 
 vulgar prejudice*. 
 
 This 
 
 * In the Salifbury journal January loth 1786, the following 
 paragraph appeared. 
 
 In confequence of a report, that has prevailed in this country 
 for upwards of two centuries, and which by many has been 
 almoft considered as a matter of faith, that the oak at Caden- 
 ham, in the New-foreft, moots forth leaves on every old 
 Chriftmas-day, and that no leaf is ever to be feen on it, either 
 before, or after that day, during the winter; a lady, who 
 is now on a vifit in this city, and who is attentively curious 
 in every thing relative to art or nature, made a journey to 
 Cadenham on monday the 3d inftant, purpofely to enquire, 
 on the fpot, about the production of this famous tree. On 
 her arrival near it, the ufual guide was ready to attend her; 
 but on his being defired to climb the oak, and to fearch whether 
 there were any leaves then on it, he faid it would be to no 
 purpofe, but that if (he would come on the wednefday fol- 
 lowing, (Chriftmas-day) me might certainly fee thoufands. 
 However he was prevailed on to afcend, and on the firft 
 branch which he gathered, appeared feveral fair new leaves, 
 frefh fprouted from the buds, and nearly an inch and a half 
 in length. l may be imagined, that the guide was more 
 amazed at this premature production than the lady ; for fp 
 ftrong was his belief in the truth of the whole tradition, that 
 he would have pledged his life, that not a leaf was to have been 
 difcovered on any part of the tree before the ufual hour. 
 
 But tho the fuperftitious part of this ancient legend is hence 
 confuted, yet it muft be allowed that there is fomething very 
 uncommon and curious in an oak's conftantly mooting forth 
 
 leaves
 
 ( '73 ) 
 
 This early fpring however of the Cadenham 
 oak is of very mort duration. The buds, 
 after unfolding themfelves, make no farther 
 progrefs ; but immediately fhrink from the 
 feafon, and die. The tree continues torpid, 
 like other deciduous trees, during the re- 
 mainder of the winter, and vegetates again 
 in the fpring, at the ufual feafon. I have 
 feen it, in full leaf, in the middle of fummer, 
 when it appeared both in it's form, and foliage, 
 exactly like other oaks. 
 
 I have been informed, that another tree 
 with the fame property of early germination, 
 
 leaves at this unfeafonable time of the year, and that the caufe 
 of it well deferves the philofophical attention of the botanift. 
 In fome years there is no doubt but that this oak may (hew 
 it's ffji leaves on the Chriftmas morning, as probably as on 
 a few days before; and this perhaps was the cafe in the laft 
 year, when a gentleman of this neighbourhood, a nice and 
 critical obferver, ftriftly examined the branches, not only 
 on the Chriftmas morn, but alfo on the day prior to it. On 
 the firft day not a leaf was to be found, but on the following 
 every branch had it's complement, tho they were then but 
 juft (hooting from the buds, none of them being more than 
 a quarter of an inch long. The latter part of the ftory may 
 eafily be credited, that no leaves are to be feen on it after 
 Chriftmas-day, as large parties yearly aflemble about the oak 
 on that morning, and regularly ftrip every appearance of a 
 leaf from it. 
 
 has
 
 ( 174 ) 
 
 has been lately found near the fpot, where 
 Rufus's monument ftands. If this be the 
 cafe, it feems, in fome degree to authenticate 
 the account which Camden * gives us of 
 the fcene of that prince's death : for he fpeaks 
 of the premature vegetation of that very tree, 
 on which the arrow of Tyrrel glanced ; and 
 the tree I now fpeak of, if it really exift, 
 tho I have no fufficient authority for it, 
 might have been a defcendant of the old oak, 
 and have inherited it's virtues. 
 
 It is very probable however there may be 
 other oaks in the foreft, which may like- 
 wife have the property of early germination. 
 I have heard it often fufpedted, that people 
 gather buds from other trees, and carry 
 them, on old Chriftmas-day, to the oak at 
 Cadenham, from whence they pretend to 
 pluck them. For that tree is in fuch repute ; 
 and reforted to annually by fo many vilitants, 
 that I think it could not eafily fupply all 
 
 it's votaries, without foreign contributions. 
 
 Some have accounted for this phenomenon by 
 fuppofing that leaves have been preferved 
 
 * See Camden's account of New-foreft. 
 
 over
 
 over the year by being fteeped in vinegar. 
 But I am well fatisfied this is not the cafe. 
 Mr. Lightfoot, to whom I fent the leaves, 
 had no fuch fufpicion. 
 
 Another tree worth pointing out in New- 
 foreft, is an immenfe yew, which ftands in 
 the church-yard at Dibden. It is now, and 
 probably has been, during the courfe of the 
 laft century, in the decline of life. But it's 
 hollow trunk ftill fupports three vaft {terns j 
 and meafures below them, about thirty feet 
 in circumference a girth, which perhaps no 
 other yew-tree in England can exhibit. Tho 
 it's age cannot be afcertained, we may ealily 
 fuppofe, it has been a living witiiefs of the 
 funerals of at leaft a dozen generations of the 
 inhabitants of the parim. 
 - But it is not only to exhibit thefe vene- 
 rable remains of antiquity, that I would draw 
 the curious to this fpot -, but for the fake alib 
 of the views, which it prefents. From this 
 lofty ftand the eye looks down, over a woody 
 bottom, upon the bay of Southampton, fpread 
 far and wide below it ; covered with /hipping ; 
 and extending like a vaft lake. Far up the 
 
 bay,
 
 ( 176 ) 
 
 bay, on the oppofite fide, the hazy towers of 
 Southampton appear mooting into the water j 
 and beyond all, the opening of the river 
 Itching, and the faint flreaks of a diftant 
 country, ftretching away, till it is loft in 
 
 the high grounds beyond Winchefter. In 
 
 another direction, the eye is carried down 
 the bay, along the wooded mores of Netley- 
 abbey j and over a remote diftance, till the 
 view is clofed by the rifing grounds of Portf- 
 down. 
 
 The laft tree I mail introduce from New- 
 foreft, is remarkable for exhibiting a very 
 uncommon inftance of the power of vegeta- 
 tion. About ten years ago, among the ruins 
 of the wall, which formerly furrounded the 
 abbey of Beaulieu, flood an oak, contiguous 
 to a part of the wall -, and extended one of 
 it's principal limbs in clofe contact, along the 
 fummit of it. This limb, at the diftance of 
 about three yards from the parent-tree, formed 
 a fecond ftem upon the wall, by mooting a 
 root through fome Mure, in which it pro- 
 bably found a depofit of foil. This root, 
 running along the bottom of the wall, and 
 
 finding
 
 ( '77 ) 
 
 finding fome crannies in it, rofe twice again 
 through it; and formed a third, and a fourth 
 confiderable ftem, each at the diftance of about 
 three yards from it's neighbour. The fourth 
 of thefe ftems mot a branch again along the 
 fuminit of the wall, and in clofe contact with 
 it; forming a fifth ftem in the fame manner, 
 that the parent-tree had formed the fecond. 
 This laft ftem is again making an effort on 
 the wall to extend this curious mode of vege- 
 tation ftill farther. In a great ftorm, which 
 happened in february 1781, a part of the 
 wall was blown down, and thofe two ftems 
 with it, which were neareft the parent-tree. 
 Each of thefe ftems was about four, or five 
 feet in diameter ; and the timber of them was 
 fold for thirty millings; which mews their 
 bulk was not trifling. We feldom meet with 
 an inftance of fo intimate a connection between 
 an oak-tree, and a ftone wall. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST BOOK. 
 
 VOL. j. N BOOK
 
 ( '79 ) 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 FROM confidering trees as individuals, we 
 proceed next to confider them under their 
 various combinations ; among which, clumps 
 are the fimpleft. 
 
 What number of trees make a clumpy no 
 rules of art prefcribe. The term has rather 
 a relative meaning. In fcenes, brought near 
 the eye, we call three or four trees a clump. 
 But in diftant and extenfive fcenery, we 
 fcruple not to ufe the term for any fmaller 
 detached part of a wood, tho it may confift 
 
 of fome hundreds. But tho the term 
 
 admits not of exacl: definition, I fhall en- 
 N 2 deavour
 
 deavour by amplification, to make the ideas 
 contained under it, as diftincl. as I can. 
 
 We diftinguifh then two kinds of clumps ; 
 the jmaller, and the larger -, confining the 
 former chiefly to the foreground*, and con- 
 fidering the latter as the ornament of a dif- 
 tance. 
 
 With regard to the fmaller clump, it's chief 
 beauty arifes from contrajl in the parts. We 
 have feen that in Jingle trees, each muft have 
 it's chara&eriftic beauty. It has nothing elfe 
 to depend on. But in combination, the beauty 
 of the individual is not required , the whole 
 clump together muft produce the efFecl:. 
 
 To enumerate all the fources of beautiful 
 contraft, which contribute to produce this 
 effect, might be difficult. I mail curforily 
 fuggeft a few. 
 
 In the firft place the relative fituation of 
 trees, with regard to each other, mould be 
 confidered. Three trees, or more, ftanding in 
 a line, are formal. In the natural wood, you 
 
 rarely fee this formality. And yet even 
 
 three trees in a line will be greatly affifted by 
 the different directions of the feveral trunks; 
 
 and
 
 and by the various forms, diflances, and growth 
 of the trees. 
 
 If three trees do not fland in a line, they 
 muft of courfe ftand in a triangle -, which pro- 
 duces a great variety of pleafmg forms. 
 
 If a fourth tree be added, it Hands beautifully 
 near the middle of the triangle, of whatever 
 form the triangle may be. If it be equilateral, 
 and the tree placed exactly in the middle, 
 there are three points, as you walk round the 
 triangle, from which it will appear offenfively 
 regular. Remarks however of this kind affect 
 only young trees, while their flems are tall, 
 and limilar. As they increafe, their different 
 modes of growth the fwelling of their roots 
 the habits they contract from winds their 
 ramification their lateral branches, and other 
 accidental circumftances introduce endlefs vari- 
 eties among them ; and blot out many of thofe 
 little formalities, which attend their youth : 
 tho, after all, the artificial clump will rarely 
 attain the beauty of the natural one. 
 
 If the clump confift of flill more trees than 
 
 four, a greater variety among the flems will of 
 
 courfe take place double triangles, irregular 
 
 quincunxes, and other pleafmg fliapes, which 
 
 N 3 may
 
 may be feen exemplified in every wood of 
 natural growth. 
 
 -The branches alfo are as much a fource of 
 contraft, as the ftem. To be pi&urefque they 
 muft intermingle with each other without 
 heavinefs they muft hang loofely, but yet 
 with varied loofenefs on every fide and if there 
 be one fuperior apex, there may be two or 
 three others, that are fubordinate, according to 
 the fize of the clump. 
 
 Different kinds of trees alfo, in the fame 
 clump, occafion often a beautiful contraft. 
 There are few trees, which will not harmonize 
 with trees of a different kind : tho perhaps the 
 moft fimple, and beautiful contrafts arife from 
 the various modes of growth in the fame 
 fpecies. We often fee two or tree oaks inter- 
 mingle their branches together in a very 
 pleafing manner. When the beach is full 
 grown, it is generally, (in a luxuriant foil at 
 leaft,) fo heavy, that it rarely blends happily 
 either with it's own kind, or with any other. 
 The filver-fir too, we have obferved, is a very 
 
 unaccommodating tree. So alfo~ are other 
 
 firs ; indeed all that taper to a point. Not fo 
 the pine-race. They are clump-headed; and 
 unite well in compofition. With thefe alfo 
 
 the
 
 the Scotch-fir leagues -, from little knots of 
 which we often fee beautiful contrails arife. 
 When they are young, and luxuriant, efpeci- 
 ally if any number of them above four, or five, 
 are planted together, they generally form a 
 heavy murky fpot : but as they acquire age, 
 this heavinefs goes off, the inner branches 
 decay, the outward branches hang loofely, and 
 negligently ; and the whole has often a good 
 effect; unlefs they have been planted too 
 clofely. I am rather doubtful, how far deci- 
 duous trees mix well in a clump with ever- 
 greens : and yet we fometimes fee a natural 
 good effect of light, and made, from the 
 darknefs of the fir contrafting agreeably with 
 the fprightly green of a deciduous tree, juft 
 coming into leaf. In this however I am clear, 
 that if they are mixed, they ought not to be 
 planted, as they often are, alternately; but 
 each kind together. 
 
 Contrafts again arife from the mixture of 
 trees of unequal growth from a young tree 
 united with an old one a ftunted tree with a 
 luxuriant one and fometimes from two or 
 three trees, which in themfelves are ill-fhaped, 
 but when combined, are pleafmg. Inequalities 
 N 4 of
 
 of all thefe kinds are what chiefly give nature's 
 planting a fuperiority over art. 
 
 The form of the foliage is another fource of 
 contrail. In one part, where the branches 
 intermingle, the foliage will be interwoven and 
 clofe ; in another, where the boughs of each 
 tree hang feparately, the appearance will be 
 light and eafy. 
 
 But whatever beauty thefe contrafts exhibit, 
 the efFedt is totally loft, unlefs the clump be 
 'well-balanced. This is as neceffary in a com- 
 bination of trees, as in a Jingle tree*. The 
 clump is confidered as one objedl: : and the 
 fupport of the 'whole muft depend on the 
 feveral trunks, and leading branches, of which 
 it is compofed. We do not expedt the minu- 
 tiae of fcale and weight : if no lide prepon- 
 derate, fo as to hurt the eye, it is enough. 
 
 Unlefs however the clump have fuffered fome 
 external injury, it is feldom deficient in point 
 of balance. Nature always conduces the ftems 
 and branches in fuch eafy forms, wherever 
 there is an opening ; and fills up all with fo 
 much nice contrivance, and at the fame time 
 with fo much pifturefque irregularity ; that 
 
 See page 6. 
 
 we
 
 we rarely wifh for an amendment in her works. 
 So true indeed this is, that nothing is fo 
 dangerous as to take away a tree from a clump. 
 You will infallibly deilroy the balance, which 
 can never again be reftored. 
 
 Thus far we have confidered a clump, as a 
 Jingle independent objedl as the objecl: of a 
 foreground confiding of fuch a confined num- 
 ber of trees, as the eye can fairly include at 
 once. And when trees ftrike our fancy, either 
 in the wild fcenes of nature ; or in the im- 
 provements of art, they will ever be found in 
 combinations fimilar to thefe. 
 
 When the clump grows larger, it becomes 
 qualified only as a remote objecl combining 
 with vaft woods ; and forming a part of fome 
 extenfive fcene, either as a firft, a fecond, 
 or a third diftance. 
 
 The great ufe of the larger clump is to 
 lighten the heavinefs of a continued dijlant 
 wood - f and conned: it gently with the plain : 
 that the tranfition may not be too abrupt. 
 All we wifh to find in a clump of this kind, 
 is proportion and general form. 
 
 With
 
 ( 186 ) 
 
 With refpect to proportion, the detached 
 clump muft not incroach too much on the 
 dignity of the wood, it aids -, but muft 
 obferve a proper fubordination. A large tract 
 of country covered with wood, will admit 
 feveral of thefe auxiliary clumps of different 
 dimenfions. But if the wood be of a fmaller 
 fize, the clumps alfo muft be fmaller, and 
 fewer. 
 
 With regard to the general form of the 
 larger clump, we obferved that in a Jingle 
 tree, we expected elegance in the parts. In 
 the fmaller clumps this idea was relinquifhed, 
 and in it's room we expected a general contrajl 
 in trunks, branches, and foliage. But as the 
 clump becomes larger, and recedes in the 
 Jandfcapes, all thefe plealing contrafts are loft, 
 and we are fatisfied with a general form. No 
 regular form is pleafing. A clump on the 
 fide of a hill, or in any fituation, where 
 the eye can more eafily inveftigate it's fhape, 
 muft be circumfcribed by an irregular line ; 
 in which it is required that the undulations both 
 at the bafe, and fummit of the clump fhoulcl be 
 ftrongly marked; as the eye probably has a 
 diftinct view of both. But if it be feen only 
 on the top of a hill, or along the diftant 
 
 horizon,
 
 horizon, (as in thefe fituations the bafe is 
 commonly loft in the varieties of the ground) 
 a little variation in the line, which forms 
 the fummit, fo as to break any difagreeable 
 regularity there, will be fufficient. 
 
 As a large tradl of wood requires a few 
 large clumps to conned it gently with the 
 plain > fo thefe large clumps themfelves require 
 the fame fervice from a fingle tree, or a few 
 trees, according to their fize. 
 
 Thefe obfervations refpedt chiefly the vaft 
 fcenes of nature, which are but little under 
 the controul of art. While they affift us 
 however in judging of the natural fcene, they 
 are in many refpe&s applicable to the em- 
 bellimed one. To the painter's ufe, they are 
 moft adapted ; whofe bufinefs it is to introduce 
 his trees in the happieft manner ; whether 
 he fpread them over his canvas in vaft woods ; 
 or break them into fmaller, or larger com- 
 binations. 
 
 SECT.
 
 SECT. II. 
 
 FROM clumps we naturally proceed to park- 
 fcenery, which is generally compofed of 
 combinations of clumps, interfperfed with lawns. 
 When it confifts of large diftrifts of wood, 
 it rather takes the name of foreft-fcenery. 
 
 The park, which is a fpecies of landfcape 
 little known, except in England, is one of the 
 nobleft appendages of a great houfe. Nothing 
 gives a manfion fo much dignity as thefe home 
 demeifns , nor contributes more to mark it's 
 confequence. A great houfe, in a courfe of 
 years, naturally acquires fpace around it. A 
 park therefore is the natural appendage of 
 an ancient manfion. 
 
 To the fize, and grandeur of the houfe, 
 the park fliould be proportioned. Blenheim- 
 cajlle with a paddock around it; or a fmall 
 
 villa
 
 villa in the middle of Woodftock-park, would 
 be equally out of place. 
 
 The houfe fhould ftand nearly in the centre 
 of the park; that is, it fhould have ample 
 room on every fide. Petworth-houfe, one 
 of the grandeft piles in England, lofes much 
 of it's grandeur from being placed at the 
 extremity of the park, where it is elbowed 
 by a churcH-yard. 
 
 The exaft fpot depends intirely on the 
 ground. There are grand fituations of various 
 kinds. In general, houfes are built firft ; and 
 parks are added afterwards by the occafional 
 removal of inclofures. A great houfe ftands 
 moft nobly on an elevated knoll, from whence 
 it may overlook the diftant country; while 
 the woods of the park fkreen the regularity of 
 the intervening cultivation. Or it ftands well 
 on the fide of a valley, which winds along 
 it's front; and is adorned with wood, or a 
 natural ftream hiding, and difcovering itfelf 
 among the trees at the bottom. Or it ftands 
 with dignity, as Longleat does, in the centre 
 of demeifns, which melve gently down to it 
 
 on every fide. Even on a dead flat I 
 
 have feen a houfe draw beauties around it. 
 At the feat of the late Mr. Bilfon Legge, (now 
 
 lord
 
 lord Stawel's) in the middle of Holt-foreft, a 
 lawn unvaried by a fingle fwell, is yet varied 
 with clumps of different forms, receding behind 
 each other, in fo pleanng a manner, as to 
 make an agreeable fcene. 
 
 By thefe obfervations I mean only to mew, 
 that in whatever part of a park a houfe may 
 have been originally placed, it can hardly have 
 been placed fo awkwardly, but that, in fome 
 way or other, the fcenery may be happily 
 adapted to it. There are fome fituations indeed 
 fo very untoward, that fcarce any remedy can 
 be applied : as when the front of a houfe 
 immediately urges on a riling ground. But 
 fuch awkward fituations are rare j and in 
 general, the variety of landfcape is fuch, that 
 it may almoft always be brought in one form, 
 or other, to ferve the purpofes of beauty. 
 The many improvements of the ingenious Mr. 
 Brown, in various parts of England, bear 
 witnefs to the truth of thefe obfervations. 
 The beauty however of park-fcenery is un- 
 doubtedly beft difplayed on a varied furface 
 where the ground fwells, and falls where 
 hanging lawns, fkreened with wood, are con- 
 nected with vallies and where one part is 
 continually playing in contrail with another. 
 
 As
 
 As the park is an appendage of the houfe, 
 it follows, that it mould participate of it's 
 neatnefs, and elegance. Nature, in all her 
 great walks of landfcape, obferves this accom- 
 modating rule. She feldom paffes abruptly 
 from one mode of fcenery to another; but 
 generally connects different fpecies of landfcape 
 by fome third fpecies, which participates of 
 both. A mountainous country rarely (inks 
 immediately into a level one ; the fwellings and 
 heavings of the earth, grow gradually lefs. 
 Thus as the houfe is connected with the 
 country through the medium of the park ', 
 the park mould partake of the neatnefs of the 
 one, and of the wildnefs of the other. 
 
 As the park is a fcene either planted by art, 
 or, if naturally woody, artificially improved, 
 we exped: a beauty, and contrail in it's clumps, 
 which we do not look for in the wild fcenes 
 of nature. We expedt to fee it's lawns, and 
 their appendages, contrafted with each other, 
 in fhape, fize, and difpofition ; from which 
 a variety of artificial, yet natural fcenes will 
 arife. We expect, that when trees are left 
 Handing as individuals, they fhould be the moil 
 beautiful of their kind, elegant and well- 
 balanced. We expect, that all offenfive trum- 
 pery,
 
 ( '93 ) 
 
 pcry, and all the rough luxuriance of under- 
 growth, fhould be removed; unlefs where it 
 is neceflary to thicken, or connect a fcene ; or 
 hide fome flaring boundary. In the wild 
 fcenes of nature we have grander exhibitions, 
 but greater deformities, than are generally met 
 with in the polifhed works of art. As we fel- 
 dom meet with thefe fubllme paflages in imr 
 proved Jandfcape ; it would be unpardonable if 
 any thing difgufting mould appear, 
 
 In the park-fcene we wifh for no expenfivc 
 ornament. Temples, Chinefe-bridges, obe- 
 lifks, and all the laboured works of art, fuggefl 
 inharmonious ideas. If a bridge be neceflary, 
 let it be plain. If a deer-med, or a keeper's 
 lodge be required ; let the famion of each 
 be as fimple, as it's ufe. Let nothing appear 
 with oftentation, or parade. Within re- 
 fractions however of this kind we mean not 
 to include piles of fuperior grandeur. Such a 
 palace as Blenheim-caflle diflributes it's great- 
 nefs far and wide. There, if the bridge be 
 immenfe, or the obelifk fuperb, it is only 
 what we naturally expect. It is the chain of 
 ideas properly carried on, and gradually lojl. 
 My remarks regard only fuch houfes, as may 
 
 VOL. I. O be
 
 be rich indeed, and elegant ; but have nothing 
 in them of fuperior magnificence. 
 
 One ornament of this kind, I fhould be in- 
 clined to allow; and that is a handfome gate 
 at the entrance of the park: but it fhould be 
 proportioned in richnefs, and elegance to the 
 houfe ; and mould alfo correfpond with it in 
 ftile. It mould raife the firft impreflion of 
 what you are to expecl:. Warwick-caftle re- 
 quires a mode of entrance very different from 
 lord Scarfdale's at Keddleftone ; and Burleigh- 
 houfe, very different from both. The park-gate 
 of Sion-houfe is certainly elegant ; but it raifes 
 the idea of a ftile of architecture, which you 
 mutt drop, when you arrive at the houfe. 
 
 The road alfo through the park fhould bear 
 the fame proportion. It fhould be fpacious, or 
 moderate, like the houfe it approaches. Let 
 it wind : but let it not take any deviation, 
 which is not well accounted for. To have 
 the convenience of winding along a valley, or 
 pafling a commodious bridge, or avoiding a 
 wood, or a piece of water, any traveller 
 would naturally wifh to deviate a little ; and 
 obftacles of this kind, if neceffary, muft be 
 interpofed. Mr. Brown was often happy in 
 creating thefe artificial obftrudtions. 
 
 From
 
 ( 195 ) 
 
 From every part of the approach, and from 
 the ridings, and favourite walks about the 
 park, let all the boundaries be fecreted. A 
 view of paling, tho in fome cafes it may 
 be picturefque, is in general difgufting. 
 
 If a natural river, or a real ruin embellim 
 the fcene, it may be a happy circumftance : 
 Jet the befl ufe be made of it : but I mould 
 be cautious in advifing the creation of either. 
 At leaft, I have rarely feen either ruins, or 
 rivers well manufactured. Mr. Brown, I 
 think, has failed more in river-making than 
 in any of his attempts. An artificial lake 
 has fometimes a good effect ; but neither pro- 
 priety, nor beauty can arife from it, unlefs the 
 heads and extremities of it are perfectly well 
 managed, and concealed : and after all, the 
 fuccefs is hazardous. You muft always fup- 
 pofe it a portion of a larger piece of water ; 
 and it is not eafy to carry on the impofition. 
 If the houfe be magnificent, it feldom receives 
 much benefit from an artificial production of 
 this kind. Grandeur is rarely produced. 
 
 Seldom art 
 
 Can emulate that magnitude fublime, 
 Which fpreads the native lake ; and failing there, 
 Her works betray their character, and name ; 
 And dwindle into pools . . 
 
 O 2 The
 
 ( 196 ) 
 
 The moft natural inhabitants of parks are 
 fallow deer ; and very beautiful they are : but 
 flocks of fheep, and herds of cattle are more 
 ufeful ; and, in my opinion, more beautiful. 
 Sheep particularly are very ornamental in a 
 park. Their colour is juft that dingy hue, 
 which contrafts with the verdure of the 
 ground -, and the flakinefs of their wool is 
 rich, and pi&urefque. I mould wifh them 
 however to wear their natural livery ; not 
 patched with letters, nor daubed with red- 
 ochre. To fee the fide of a hill fpread with 
 groups of fheep or to fee them through 
 openings among the boles of trees, at a little 
 diftance, with a gleam of light falling upon 
 them, is very pi&urefque. 
 
 As the garden, (or pie afure- ground, as it is 
 commonly called,) approaches nearer the 
 houfe, than the park, it takes of courfe a 
 higher polifh. Here the lawns are morn, 
 inftead of being grazed. The roughnefs of 
 the road is changed into an elegant gravel 
 walk ; and knots of flowers, and flowering 
 mrubs are introduced, yet blended with clumps 
 of foreft-trees, which conned: it with the park. 
 Single trees alfo take their ftation here with 
 great propriety. The fpreading oak, or elm, 
 
 are
 
 ( '97 ) 
 
 are no difgrace to the moft ornamented fcene. 
 It is the property of thefe noble plants to 
 harmonize with every fpecies of landfcape. 
 They equally become the foreft, and the lawn : 
 only here they mould be beautiful in their 
 kind -, and luxuriant in their growth. Neither 
 the fcathed, nor the unbalanced oak would fuit 
 a polimed fituation. 
 
 Here too, if the fituation fuits it, the elegant 
 temple may find a place. But it is an expen- 
 live, a hazardous, and often a ufelefs decoration. 
 If more than one however be introduced in the 
 fame view, they croud the fcene, unlefs it be 
 very extenfive. More than two mould in no 
 cafe be admitted. In the moft polimed land- 
 fcape, unlefs nature, and fimplicity lead the 
 way, the whole will be deformed. 
 
 As a contraft to parks thus laid out in the 
 fimplicity of nature, let us juft throw our 
 eyes over a park laid out with the formality 
 of art. The comparifon will not injure the 
 principles we eftablifh. 
 
 " From Vauvrey recrofling the Seine, we 
 
 " came to Muids. This chateau ftands on 
 
 " a rifing ground on the north fide of it ; 
 
 " and commands a fine profpecl: ; having two 
 
 03 long
 
 ( 198 ) 
 
 " long avenues of trees, running down to 
 
 " the river. Adjoining to the houfe are 
 
 " pleafant gardens, and a paddock planted 
 
 " with timber- trees in form of a ftar*." 
 
 * See Ducarrel's Norman Antiq. p.
 
 ( '99 ) 
 
 
 SECT. Ill 
 
 FROM fcenes of art, let us haften to the 
 chief object of our purfuit, the wild fcenes 
 of nature the wood the copfe the glen and 
 open-grove. 
 
 Under the term wood, we include every 
 extenfive combination of foreft-trees, in a Jlate 
 of nature. All fuch combinations, tho without 
 the privilege of forefts, compofe the fame kind 
 of fcenery. The defcription therefore of fuch 
 fcenes will come moil properly under the head 
 of for eft -views ; on which we (hall hereafter 
 dwell at large. At prefent let us examine the 
 fmaller combinations ; and firfl the copfe. 
 
 The copfe is a fpecies of fcenery compofed 
 commonly of foreft-trees intermixed with brum- 
 wood; which latter is periodically cut down 
 in twelve, thirteen, or fourteen years. In it's 
 difmantled flate therefore, nothing can be more 
 O 4 forlorn
 
 ( 200 ) 
 
 forlorn than the copfe. The area is covered 
 with bare roots, and knots, from which the 
 brum-wood has been cut ; while the foreft- 
 trees, intermingled among them, prefent their 
 ragged items, defpoiled of all their lateral 
 branches, which the luxuriance of the fur- 
 rounding thickets had choked. 
 
 In a very fhort time however all this injury, 
 which the copfe hath fuffered, is repaired. 
 One winter only fees it's difgrace. The next 
 fumrrfer produces luxuriant moots > and two 
 fummers more reftore it almoft to perfect 
 beauty. 
 
 It matters little of what fpecies of wood the 
 copfe is compofed, for as it feldom, at beft, 
 exhibits a fcene of picturefque beauty, we 
 rarely expect more from it, than a mady 
 fequeftered path ; which it generally furnimes 
 in great perfection. It is among the luxuries 
 of nature, to retreat into the cool recefles of 
 the full grown copfe from the feverity of a 
 meridian fun -, and be ferenaded by the hum- 
 ming infects of the made ; whofe continuous 
 fong has a more refreming found, than the 
 buzzing vagrant fly, which wantons in the 
 glare of day ; and, as Milton exprefTes it, 
 
 . winds her fultry horn. 
 
 In
 
 In diftant landfcape, the copfe hath fcldom 
 any effect. The beauty of wood, in a diftant 
 view, arifes, in fome degree, from it's tuftings, 
 which break, and inrich the lights but chiefly 
 from it's contraft with the plain and from 
 the grand fhapes, and forms, occafioned by 
 the retiring and advancing parts of the 
 foreft, which produce vaft mafTes of light and 
 made ; and give effect to the whole. 
 
 Thefe beauties appear rarely in the copfe. 
 Inftead of that rich and tufted bed of foliage, 
 which the diftant foreft exhibits, the copfe 
 prefents a meagre, and unaccommodating fur- 
 face. It is age, which gives the tree it's 
 tufted form \ and the foreft, it's effect. A 
 nurfery of faplins produce it not > and the 
 copfe is little more. Nor does the intermix- 
 ture of full-grown trees aflift the appearance. 
 Their clumpy heads blend ill with the fpiry 
 tops of the juniors. Neither have they any 
 connection with each other. The wood-man's 
 judgment is mewn in leaving the timber-trees 
 at proper intervals, that they may neither 
 hinder each other's growth, nor the growth 
 of the underwood. But the wood-man does 
 not pretend to manage his trees with a view 
 to picturefque beauty ; and from his manage- 
 ment
 
 ( 202 ) 
 
 ment it is impoffible they mould produce a 
 mafs of light and {hade. 
 
 Befides, the copfe forms no contrail with 
 the plain ; nor prefents thofe beautiful pro- 
 jections, and recefles, which the fkirts of the 
 foreft exhibit. A copfe is a plot of ground, 
 portioned off for the purpofe of nurturing 
 wood. Of courfe it muft be fenced from 
 cattle ; and thefe fences, which are in them- 
 felves difgufting, generally form the copfe into 
 a fquare, a rhomboid, or fome other regular 
 figure ; fo that we have not only a deformity ; 
 but a want alfo of a connecting tye between 
 the wood and the plain. Inftead of a foftened, 
 undulating line, we have a harm fence. 
 
 The beft effect, which the copfe produces, 
 is on the lofty banks of a river. I have the 
 Wye particularly in my view. In navigating 
 fuch a river ; the deficiences of this mode of 
 fcenery, as you view it upwards from a boat, 
 are loft ; and in almoft every ftate it has a good 
 effect. While it inriches the bank, it's un- 
 couth fhape, unlefs the fence is too much in 
 view, and all it's other unpleafant appearances, 
 are concealed. 
 
 When a winding walk is carried through a 
 copfe, which, as it will grow thin at the 
 
 bottom,
 
 bottom, and ftemmy, muft necefTarily in a 
 courfe of years, even in point of pi&urefque 
 beauty, be given to the axe {hall the whole 
 be cut down together ? Or fhall a border be 
 left, as is fometimes done, on each fide of the 
 walk ? 
 
 This is a difficult queftion ; but I think all 
 fhould go together. Unlefs the border you 
 leave, be very broad, it will have no effect, 
 even at prefent. You will fee through it : it 
 will appear meagre : and will certainly never 
 unite happily with the neighbouring parts, 
 when they begin to grow. At leaft let it not 
 ftand longer than one year. The reft of the 
 copfe will then be growing beautiful ; and the 
 border may be difpenfed with, till it is 
 replaced. But the beft way certainly is, if 
 you have courage, to cut the whole down, 
 together. In a little time, as we obferved 
 above, it will recover it's beauty. 
 
 Nearly related to the copfe, tho more the 
 genuine offspring of nature, is the thicket, 
 The thicket is an intermixture of underwood, 
 chiefly of the thorny kind ; wholly unprotected; 
 and yet fo clofe as to exclude all entrance. 
 Of this fpecies however we need fay the 
 lefs, as it is rarely found of any exteniion, 
 
 in
 
 in an Englifh foreft. In fmall patches it is 
 frequent. We often fee a few thorns intangled, 
 and knit clofe together, ftanding out on a 
 foreft-lawn, forming fome pleafing, irregular 
 fhape, and frequently adorned with an oak, 
 or two ; which, from fome cafual acorn, 
 having ftruggled, by the force of vegetation, 
 through the interflices of the thicket, gives 
 dignity to what before was only a bum. Of 
 thefe trees fuch thickets are often the fatellites.
 
 ( 2 5 ) 
 
 SECT. IV. 
 
 FROM the copfe we proceed to the glen. 
 A wide, open fpace between hills, is 
 called a vale. If it be of fmaller dimenfions, 
 we call it a valley. But when this fpace is 
 contracted to a c-bafm, it becomes a glen. A 
 glen therefore is moft commonly the offspring 
 of a mountainous country ; tho it is fometimes 
 found elfewhere, with it's common accompa- 
 niments of woody-banks, and a rivulet at the 
 bottom. I know few places, where the glen 
 may be feen in greater perfection, than among 
 the dreary plains of Northumberland ; where 
 we frequently find flreams winding through 
 deep rocky vallies, adorned with wood ; which 
 the lofty fcreens protect. 
 
 The circumflances, which form the glen, 
 it is evident, admit infinite variety. It may 
 be more, or lefs contracted. It may form one 
 
 fingle
 
 iingle fweep; or it's deviations may be ir- 
 regular. The wood may confift of full-grown 
 trees , or of underwood ; or of a mixture of both. 
 The path, which winds through it, may run 
 along the upper part, or the lower. Or, 
 laftly, the rivulet may foam among rocks -, 
 or it may murmur among pebbles ; or it 
 may form tranfparent pools, overhung with 
 wood ; or, which is often the cafe, it may 
 be totally invifible ; an object only of the ear. 
 
 The moil beautiful circumftances that at- 
 tend the internal parts of a glen, are the glades, 
 or openings, which are found in it. If the 
 whole were a thicket, like the full-grown copfe, 
 little beauty would refult. An agreeable made 
 only in that cafe, muft fatisfy our expecta- 
 tions. But the glen, whofe furniture is com- 
 monly of more fortuitous growth, than that 
 of the copfe, and not fo fubject to periodical 
 defalcations, exhibits generally more beautiful 
 fcenery. Particularly it abounds with frequent 
 openings. The eye is carried down, from the 
 higher grounds, to a fweep of the river or to 
 a little gufhing cafcade or to the face of a 
 fractured rock, garnimed with hanging wood 
 or perhaps to a cottage, with it's fcanty area 
 of lawn falling to the river, on one fide ; and 
 
 flickered
 
 20 7 
 
 flickered by a clump of oaks, on the other ; 
 while the fmoke wreathing behind the trees, 
 difperfe, and lofes itfelf, as it gains the fummit 
 of the glen. Or ftill more beautifully perhaps 
 the eye breaks out, at fome opening, into the 
 country ; inriched with all the varieties of 
 diftant landfcape a winding flream plains, 
 and woods melting together and blue moun- 
 tains beyond. 
 
 As an objedl of diftance alfo the woody glen 
 has often a good effedt ; climbing the fides of 
 mountains, breaking their lines, and giving 
 variety to their bleak and barren fides. 
 
 In many places you fee the glen under the 
 hands of improvement ; and when you happen 
 to have a fcene of this kind near your houfe, 
 you cannot well have a more fortunate cir- 
 cumftance. But great care mould be taken 
 not to load it with ornament. Such fcenes 
 admit little art. Their beauty confifts in their 
 natural wildnefs ; and the beft rule is to add 
 little ; but to be content with removing a few 
 deformities, and obftru&ions. A good walk, 
 or a path, there muft be, and the great art 
 will confift in conducing it, in the ealieft and 
 moft natural way to the fpot, where the 
 
 cafcade,
 
 ( 208 ) 
 
 cafcade, the rock, or any other object, which 
 the glen exhibits, may be feen to the beft 
 advantage. If a feat or two be thought necef- 
 fary, let them be of the rudeft materials ; and 
 their iituation no way forced. I have often 
 feen femi-circular areas, on thefe occafions, 
 adapted to elegant feats, which have been fixed, 
 either where openings happened to be prefented, 
 or were purpofely cut through the woods. 
 AH this is awkward, and difgufting. Let 
 no formal preparation introduce a view. A 
 parading preface always injures a ftory. The 
 eye receives more pleafure from cafual, un- 
 expected circumftances, than from objects per- 
 haps of more real beauty, forced upon it, with 
 parade, and oftentation. 
 
 Put tho we are averfe to load thefe fweet 
 recefles of nature with falfe ornaments ; yet if 
 fuch fcenes make a part of the immediate 
 environs, or pleafure ground, of a houfe ; a 
 proper degree of ornament will of courfe be 
 required. The walk muft be more artificial 
 it's borders may be fpread here and there, as 
 in other decorated places, with flowers, and 
 flowering fhrubs the feats may be more ele- 
 gant ; and a temple, or other building, may 
 
 perhaps
 
 ( 209 ) 
 
 perhaps find a place ; but ftill the fame chafte 
 fpirit muft regulate here, which prefides over 
 all other improvements. To run into excefs 
 in ornament, is one of the moft obvious errors 
 of falfe tafte. We frequently fee the eftecl: 
 both of the natural fcene and of the artificial 
 reprefentation, deflroyed merely by adorning. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 SECT.
 
 SECT. V. 
 
 AS the glen is fometimes found in the 
 country we are about to defcribe ; it 
 was necefTary juft to mention it as a diftinft 
 fpecies of woodland fcenery : yet as it is not 
 one of it's common features, we fhall dwell no 
 longer upon it; but haften to the open grove. 
 The open grove is compofed of trees arifing 
 from a fmooth area; which may confift either 
 of pines, or of the deciduous race. I have 
 feen beautiful groves of both. The pine- 
 grove will always be dry, as it is the peculiar 
 quality of it's leaves to fuck up moifture : but 
 in lightnefs, variety, and general beauty, the 
 deciduous-grove excels. If indeed you wifh 
 to compofe your grove in the gloomy (Hie, the 
 pine-race will beft ferve your purpofe. 
 
 The open-grove feldom makes a pi&urefque 
 
 appearance. In diftant fcenery indeed it may 
 
 P 2 have
 
 have the effect of other woods ; for the trees, 
 of which it is formed, need not be feparated 
 from each other, as they often are in the copfe ; 
 but being well ma/Ted together, may receive 
 
 beautiful effects of light. When we enter 
 
 it's receffes, it is not fo well calculated to 
 pleafe. There, it wants variety ; and that 
 not only from the fmoothnefs of the furface ; 
 but from the uniformity of the furniture at 
 leaft if it be an artificial fcene ; in which the 
 trees, having been planted in a nurfery, grow 
 all alike, with upright items. And yet a 
 walk, upon a velvet turf, winding at pleafure 
 among thefe natural columns, whofe twitting 
 branches at leaft admit fome variety, with a 
 fpreading canopy of foliage over the head, 
 is pleating; and in hot weather, refrefhing. 
 Sometimes we find the open-grove of natural 
 growth. It is then more various, and irregular, 
 and becomes of courfe, a more pleafing fcene. 
 And yet when woods of this kind continue, 
 as they fometimes do, in unpeopled countries, 
 through half a province, they become tirefome ; 
 and prove that it is not wood, but variety of 
 landfcape, that delights the eye. 
 
 Sometimes the grove, in the neighbourhood 
 of great houfes, demands a little embellifhment , 
 
 and
 
 and as it is naturally lefs rude than the glen, it 
 is therefore more patient of improvement. A 
 feat, or a temple according to the fize, and 
 fituation of the place, may here be a proper 
 ornament. But if the turf be neat (tho we do 
 not often find it fo under trees) or clofe grazed 
 with meep, or deer, no artificial walks are 
 neceflary. If the fcene command no diftant 
 landfcape > nor any view of confequence at 
 hand, it will require in itfelf, a greater mare 
 of ornament. But ftill fimplicity muft be the 
 
 leading idea. One thing is abfolutely necef- 
 
 fary to compleat the idea of a grove ; it's boun- 
 daries mould be concealed. It is intended 
 for a fequeftered place ; and mould anfwer 
 that idea. 
 
 I remember meeting with an ornamented 
 fcene of this kind, which was very pleafing. 
 The grove extended along the brow of a gentle 
 declivity ; and aflumed from that circumftance, 
 a dark, clofe, gloomy appearance, in it's deeper 
 recefles : tho it's opening on the lawn was 
 light and airy, and agreeably connected with 
 the ground. In the front of the grove flood 
 a rude temple of Pan ; and the lawn being a 
 neat meep- walk, the whole, tho highly po- 
 P 3 limed,
 
 limed, was characteriftic, harmonious, and 
 beautiful. 
 
 The pleating tranquility of groves hath ever 
 been in high repute among the innocent, and 
 refined part of mankind. 
 
 Groves were planted to confole at noon 
 
 The penfive wanderer in their ihades. At eve 
 The moon-beam, fliding foftly in between 
 The fleeping leaves, is all the light he wants 
 For meditation 
 
 Indeed no fpecies of landfcape is fo fitted for 
 meditation. The foreft attracts the attention 
 by it's grandeur; and the park-fcene, by it's 
 beauty : while the paths through copfes, 
 dells, and thickets, are too clofe, devious, 
 interrupted, and often too beautiful, to allow 
 the mind to be at perfect reft. But the 
 uniform famenefs of the grove leaves the eye 
 difengaged ; and the feet wandering at pleafure, 
 where they are confined by no path> want 
 little direction. The mind therefore undif- 
 turbed, has only to retire within itfelf. Hence 
 the philofopher, the devotee, the poet, all 
 retreated to thefe quiet recefles ; and 
 
 -from the world retired, 
 
 Converfed with angels, and immortal forms. 
 
 In
 
 ( "5 ) 
 
 In claffic times the grove was the haunt of 
 Gods: 
 
 -Habitarunt dii quoque fylvas. 
 
 And in the days of nature, before art had 
 introduced a kind of combination againfl her, 
 man had no idea of wormipping God in a temple 
 made 'with hands. The templum nemorale was 
 the only temple he knew. 
 
 In the refounding wood 
 
 All vocal beings hymned their equal God. 
 
 We have a pleating modern inftance of this 
 fimple mode of worfhip in the accounts given 
 us of Mr. Weftley's firft preaching the gofpel 
 in America. It was generally conducted in 
 fome open part of the wide forefts of the 
 country. " The woods refounded to the voice 
 " of the preacher; or to the fmging of his 
 " numerous congregation : while their horfes, 
 " fattened to the trees, formed a fingular ad- 
 " dition to the fcene*." 
 
 To this idea indeed of the ancient templum 
 nemorale, one of the earlier! forms of the artl- 
 
 See Hampfon's memoirs of Weftley. 
 
 P 4 ficial
 
 jicial temple feems to have been indebted. 
 Many learned men * have thought the Gothic 
 arch of our cathedral-churches was an imitation 
 of the natural grove. It arifes from a lofty 
 ftem ; or from two or three ftems, if they be 
 {lender; which being bound together, and 
 fpreading in every direction, cover the whole 
 roof with their ramification. In the clofe 
 receffes of the beechen-grove we find this 
 idea the moft compleat. The lofty, narrow 
 aifle the pointed arch the cluftered pillar, 
 whofe parts feparating without violence, di- 
 verge gradually to form the fretted roof, find 
 there perhaps their earlieft archetype. 
 
 Groves too were the fcenes of fuperftition, 
 as well as of religion. Here the priefts of Baal 
 performed their prophane rites : and here the 
 back-Hiding Ifraelites ufed often to fkreen their 
 idolatries. The ftrong ideas of fuperftition, 
 which thefe gloomy retreats impreffed upon 
 the ignorance of early ages, are finely touched 
 by Virgil. The paflage I allude to, is in the 
 eighth book; where the ftory of Evander is 
 introduced. The whole country was then, as 
 
 * See a note in bp. Warburton's edition of Pope's epift. to 
 lord Burlington. 
 
 unpeopled
 
 unpeopled countries commonly are, a mere 
 foreft ; and as the groves, and woods prefented 
 themfelves on every fide, the venerable chief 
 defcribing each fcene to his illuftrious gueft, 
 annexes to it fome tale of horror, or fome cir- 
 cumilance of religious awe. 
 
 Hinc lucum ingentem, quern Romulus acer afylum 
 Rettulit, et gelida monftrat fub rupe Lupercal, 
 Parrhafio dictum Panos de more Lycaei.. 
 Nee non et facri monftrat nemus Argileti ; 
 Teftaturque locum, et lethum docet hofpitis Argi. 
 Hinc ad Tarpeiam fedem, et capitolia ducit. 
 Aurea nunc, olim fylveftribus horrida dumis. 
 Jam mm religio pavidos terrebat agreftes 
 Dira loci : jam turn fylvam, faxumque timebant. 
 Hoc nemus, hunc, inquit, frondofo vertice collem, 
 (Quis deus, incertum eft) habitat deus. Arcades ipfum 
 Credunt fe vidifle Jovem, cum faepe nigrantem 
 JfLgida. concuteret dextra, nlmbofque cieret. 
 
 I cannot conclude this fe&ion better, than 
 with another quotation, very beautifully adap- 
 ted to the fubjeft. 
 
 Meditation here 
 
 May think down hours to moments. Here the heart 
 May give a ufeful leflbn to the head; 
 And learning wifer grow without it's books. 
 Knowledge, and wifdom, far from being one, 
 Have ofttimes no connection. Knowledge dwells 
 In heads replete with thoughts of other men : 
 Wifdom, in minds attentive to their own. 
 
 Knowledge,
 
 Knowledge, a rude unprofitable mafs, 
 
 The mere materials, with which wifdom builds, 
 
 Till fmoothed, and fquared, and fitted to its place, 
 
 Does but incumber, whom it feems t'enrich. 
 
 Knowledge is proud, that it has learned fo much : 
 
 Wifdom is humble, that it knows no more. 
 
 Books are not feldom talifmans, and fpells, 
 
 By which the magic arts of ihrewder wits 
 
 Holds an unthinking multitude inthrall'd. 
 
 Some to the fafcination of a name 
 
 Surrender judgment hood-wink'd. Some the Jtih 
 
 Infatuates ; and through labyrinths, and wilds 
 
 Of error, leads them by a tune entranc'd. 
 
 While floth feduces more, too weak to bear 
 
 The infupportable fatigue of thought; 
 
 And fwallowing therefore, without paufe, or choice, 
 
 The total grift unfifted; hulks, and all. 
 
 But trees, and rivulets, and haunts of deer, 
 
 And fheep-walks, populous with bleating lambs, 
 
 And groves, in which the primrofe e'er her time 
 
 Peeps through the mofs, that cloaths the haw-thorn root, 
 
 Deceive no ftudent. Wifdom there, and truth, 
 
 Not my as in the world, and to be won 
 
 By flow felicitation, feize at once 
 
 The roving thought, and fix it on themfelves. 
 
 SECT.
 
 ( 2I 9 ) 
 
 SECT. VI. 
 
 HAVING thus confidered various kinds of 
 woody fcenery, and traced the peculiar 
 beauties of each -, we proceed next to thefore/t, 
 which in a manner comprehends them all. 
 There are few extenfive forefts, which do not 
 contain, in fome part or other, a fpecimen of 
 every fpecies of woody-landfcape. The wild 
 foreft-view indeed differs eflentially from the 
 embellifhed one ; tho fometimes we find even 
 the foreft-lawn in a polifhed ftate, when 
 browzed by deer into a fine turf, and fur- 
 rounded by ftately woods. Beauty however 
 is not the charadteriftic of the foreft. It's 
 peculiar diftin&ion is grandeur, and dignity. 
 The fcenes we have hitherto confidered, are 
 all within the reach of art -, and in fad:, have 
 all been the objects of improvement. But the 
 foreft difdains all human culture. On it the 
 
 hand
 
 ( 220 ) 
 
 hand of nature only is imprefled. The foreft, 
 like other beautiful fcenes, pleafes the eye ; but 
 it's great effect is to roufe the imagination. 
 
 The word forejl immediately fuggefts the 
 idea of a continued uninterrupted traft of woody 
 country. But forefts in general are much more 
 varied. They confift indeed of tracts of woody 
 country : but thefe tracts are, at the fame 
 time, intermixed with patches of pafturage, 
 which commonly bear the fame proportion to 
 the woods of the foreft, which lawns do to 
 
 the clumps of a park. Thefe intermingled 
 
 fcenes of wood, and pafturage, are again divid- 
 ed from other intermixtures of the fame kind, 
 by wide heaths, which are fome times bounded 
 by a naked line of horizon j but more fre- 
 quently fkirted with wood. This intermixture 
 of wood and pafturage, with large feparations 
 of heath, give a variety to the foreft, which a 
 boundlefs continuance of woody fcenery could 
 not exhibit : tho it muft be acknowledged, 
 that in many forefts, particularly in New- 
 foreft, thefe tracts of heathy country are often 
 larger, than picturefque beauty requires. 
 
 Having given this general idea of the fpecies 
 of country, which \ mean to treat under 
 
 the
 
 ( 221 ) 
 
 the idea of zforeft, I fhall proceed to parti- 
 culars. Let me juft recall to the reader's 
 memory, what was obferved before, that all 
 great woods, diverfified as forefts are (tho not 
 properly denominated forefts, as not fubject to 
 foreft-laws, will however) naturally fall under 
 the defcription of foreft-fcenery*. 
 
 The foreft, under the divifion of wood, paf- 
 turage, and heath, prefents itfelf to us, as a 
 picture fque object, in a double view as the 
 fcenery of a fore-ground', and as the fcenery of 
 a dtftance. In both views, it is equally an 
 object of picturefque beauty : but as it's effects 
 are different in each, I mall endeavour to deli- 
 neate their refpective beauties. 
 
 When we fpeak of foreft-fcenery, as a fore- 
 ground, we mean the appearance, which it's 
 woods prefent, when we approach their fkirts, 
 or invade their receffes. Forefts, in their 
 nature, are woods ab origine not newly planted-, 
 but natural woods, fet apart for the purpofes 
 of flickering, and fecuring game. The trees 
 
 * Seepage 199. 
 
 therefore,
 
 ( 222 ) 
 
 therefore, of which thefe natural woods, arc 
 compofed, confift of all ages, and fizes, from 
 the ancient fathers of the foreft, to the fcion, 
 and the feedling. They grow alfo in that 
 wild, difordered manner, which nature pre- 
 fcribes ; as the root cafually runs, which 
 throws up the fcion ; or as the feed, or acorn, 
 finds foil, and room to eftablifh itfelf, and 
 increafe. But tho the richnefs of the fcenery 
 depends greatly on this multifarious mixture, 
 which mafles, and fills up all the va- 
 rious combinations -, yet the moft ancient 
 trees of each fpecies are the glory of fylvan 
 landfcape. Young trees, tho even in diftant 
 views inferior to old, will however in that 
 fituation exhibit a better appearance, than on 
 the fpot ; where no foreft-fcenery can fill the 
 eye, without a proper aflemblage of fuch trees, 
 as have feen ages pafs over them. Thefe form 
 thofe bold, and rough exhibitions, in which 
 the pride and dignity of fore/i-views confift. 
 We have already obferved, that the wild and 
 rough parts of nature produce the ftrongeft 
 effects on the imagination \ and we may add, 
 they are the only objects in landfcape, which 
 pleafe the pidlurefque eye. Every thing trim, 
 and fmooth, and neat, afFe&s it coolly. Pro- 
 priety
 
 ( "3 ) 
 
 priety brings us to acquiefce in the elegant, 
 and well-adapted embellifhments of art : but 
 the painter, who fhould introduce them on 
 canvas, would be characterized as a man void 
 of tafte; and utterly unacquainted with the 
 
 objects of picturefque fele&ion. Such are 
 
 the great materials, which we expect to find 
 in the fkirts, and internal parts of the foreft 
 trees of every kind, but particularly the oldeft, 
 
 and rougheft of each. We examine next 
 
 the mode of fcenery which cefults from their 
 combinations. 
 
 In fpeaking of the glen*, we obferved that 
 the principal beauty of it arofe from thofe 
 little openings, or glades, with which it 
 commonly abounds. It is thus in the foreft- 
 woods. The great beauty of thefe clofe fcenes 
 arifes from the openings and receffes, which 
 we find among them. 
 
 By thefe I do not mean the lawns, and 
 pafturage, which I mentioned as one of the 
 great divifions of foreft-fcenery-f- ; but merely 
 thofe little openings among the trees, which 
 are produced by various circumftances. A 
 
 See page 205. f See page 210. 
 
 fandy
 
 fandy bank, or a piece of rocky ground may 
 prevent the contiguity of trees, and fo make 
 an opening ; or a tree or two may have been 
 blafted, or have been cut down , or, what is 
 the happieft of all circumftances, a winding 
 
 road may run along the wood, The fimple 
 
 idea, which is varied through all thefe little 
 recefles, is the exhibition of a few trees, feen 
 behind others. The varieties of this mode 
 of fcenery, fimple as it is, are infinite. Na- 
 ture is wonderfully fertile. The invention of 
 the painter may form a competition more agree- 
 able to the rules of his art, than nature com- 
 monly produces : but no invention can reach 
 the varieties of particular objects, 
 
 Waterlo delighted in thefe clofe forejl-fcenes. 
 He penetrated their retreats ; and when he 
 found a little opening, or recefs, that pleafed 
 him, he fixed it on the fpot. He ftudied it's 
 various forms how the bold protuberances of 
 an old trunk received the light, and made 
 how eafily the large boughs parted - y and how 
 negligently the fmaller were interwoven how 
 elegantly the foliage hung , and what va- 
 rious mapes it's little tuftings exhibited. All 
 thefe things he obferved, and copied with 
 exact attention. His landfcape, bare of objects, 
 
 and
 
 and of the fimpleft compofition, had little to 
 recommend it, but the obfervance of the 
 minutiae of nature. Thefe he characterized 
 with truth ; and thefe alone have given a 
 value to his works. 
 
 On the other hand, Claude, Pouflin, Sal- 
 vator, and other matters, who exhibited nature 
 more at large, took greater liberties. Their 
 landfcapes were generally carried into remote 
 diftance; and the beauty of their extenlive 
 fcenes depended more on compofitlon^ and 
 general ejfeft, than on the exat refemblance of 
 particular objeffis. 
 
 But the fcenery of the internal parts of a 
 fore ft is not merely confined to trees. There 
 is often an opportunity of introducing a little 
 more variety. The fandy bank mentioned 
 above, the piece of rocky ground, or the wind- 
 ing road, are fometimes found in forefts ; and 
 are always introduced with good effect. Some 
 of the beft of Waterlo's fcenes are indebted to 
 thefe circumftances for their beauty. 
 
 A pool of water too is a lucky incident. 
 When it is fhrouded with trees, and refle&s 
 from it's deep, black mirror the mofly branches 
 of an oak, or other objects in it's neighbour- 
 hood, which have received a ftrong touch of 
 
 VOL. i. fun-
 
 ( 226 ) 
 
 fun-fhine, it never fails to pleafe. But it 
 muft receive it's black hue from clearnefs. 
 Where a pool is the principal part of a little 
 landfcape, the leaft muddinefs, or ftain from 
 clay, or filth of any kind, robs it of it's 
 beauty. 
 
 -The green mantle of the {landing pool, 
 
 as Shakefpeare calls it, hurts the eye exceedingly 
 from it's ambiguous texture. It poiTeiles nei- 
 ther the character of land, nor of water. 
 
 Nor is the cottage, which is often found in 
 the woody fcenes of the foreft, a circumftance 
 without it's efFecl:. In nature at leaft it 
 pleafes : not only as the embellishment of a 
 fcene ; but as it fhews us a dwelling, where 
 happinefs may refide, unfupported by wealth 
 as it fhews us a refource, where we may ftill 
 continue to enjoy peace, tho we fhould be 
 deprived of all the favours of fortune. Yet 
 on canvas, where the foreft-view is formally 
 introduced, the cottage is an improper deco- 
 ration. In nature, the eye, fated with a 
 profulion of rich foreft-fcenes, often feizes 
 even the humbleft circumftance as an objecl: of 
 relief. But when a foreft- fcene is fimply, and 
 formally introduced, it ought to appear, like 
 
 itfelf,
 
 ( 227 ) 
 
 itfelf, with the appendages of greatnefs. 
 There are feafons, when a monarch may hold 
 converfe with the meaneft of his fubjects, 
 without injuring his dignity j but it is not the 
 feafon, when he is feated on his throne. A 
 foreft-fcene, introduced in picture, is intro- 
 duced with diftinction ; and calls for every 
 appendage of grandeur to harmonize with it. 
 The cottage offends. It mould be a caftle, a 
 bridge, an aquaduct, or fome other object that 
 fuits it's dignity. 
 
 With regard to aquaducts indeed, the 
 Romans never fuffered wood to grow near 
 them, left it's roots, or feeds, fhould infmuate 
 themfelves into the crannies of the ftone, and 
 injure the work. But there can be no im- 
 propriety, at this day, in the introduction 
 of a ruined aquaduct amidft a woody fcene ; 
 as trees of any magnitude may be fuppofed 
 to have grown up, iince it had fallen to decay. 
 The fcenery about the celebrated ruins of 
 Pont-du-Gard in Languedoc is woody; and 
 the immediate environs of it have all the 
 rich furniture, at leaft they had lately, that 
 a painter would defire. 
 
 Befides foreft-trees, in which the dignity 
 
 of wood-land fcenery confifts, it is inriched 
 
 Qjz by
 
 ( "8 ) 
 
 by a variety of humble plants, which filling 
 up the interfaces, mafs and connect the whole. 
 Thefe, however rude, we only wifh to 
 remove, when they ftraggle too far from 
 the clumps, with which they are connected, 
 and appear as fpots in the area, or middle 
 fpace between different combinations. 
 
 A long catalogue might be given of thefe 
 humble plants, which are fo ufeful in this 
 harmonizing work j but it would lead me 
 into tedious detail. The holly however fhould 
 be diftinguimed in a general mufter*. In many 
 fituations it appears to great advantage ; but 
 particularly growing round the ftem, as it 
 often does, of fome noble oak, on the fore- 
 ground; and filling up all the fpace, to his 
 lower boughs. In fummer it is a fine ap- 
 pendage ; and in autumn it's brilliant leaf, 
 and fcarlet berry make a pleafing mixture 
 with the wrinkled bark, and hoary mofs, 
 and auburn leaves of the venerable tree, which 
 
 it incircles. The haw-thorn too performs 
 
 the fame offices with good effecl:. Tho as 
 a Jingle bujh it is fometimes offenfive -f- ; yet 
 
 See page lOz. f See page 103. 
 
 intangled
 
 intangled with an oak, or mixing with other 
 trees, it may be beautiful. 
 
 Nor are forubs alone ufeful in harmonizing 
 the foreft, the larger kinds of iveeds, and 
 wild flowers have their effeft in filling up 
 the fmaller vacancies near the ground ; and add 
 to the richnefs of the whole. Among thefe, 
 the heath, and broom, with their purple, 
 and yellow tints j the fox-glove with it's 
 pale-red pendent bells ; the wide-fpreading 
 dock \ and many of the thiftle-tribe, are 
 very beautiful. The hue of the furze too 
 is pleafant ; but in bloom it's luxuriant yel- 
 low is too powerful. Nothing can accompany 
 it. 
 
 But among all the minuter plants, fern is 
 the moft pidturefque. I do not mean where 
 it is fpread in quantities ; but where it is 
 fparingly, and judicioufly introduced. In itfelf 
 it is beautiful. We admire the form of it's 
 leaf it's elegant mode of hanging and it's 
 dark-brown polifhed ftem. As an accom- 
 paniment alfo, nothing is better fuited to 
 unite the higher plants with the ground : 
 while it's bright-green hue in fummer \ and 
 it's ocher-tint in autumn, join each feafon 
 with it's correfpondent tinge. 
 
 0.3 The
 
 The poet indeed (who, with all his cant, 
 is fometimes a truant to nature,) pays, in 
 general, very little attention to thefe rougher 
 objects of beauty. His fore-grounds are com- 
 monly adorned with the livelier tints of 
 nature 
 
 each beauteous flower ; 
 Iris all hues, rofes, and jeflamin, 
 Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay 
 Broidering the ground. 
 
 And if he deign to fpeak of ground 
 
 embellimed with thefe rough picturefque 
 
 beauties, he difdainfully calls it a place 
 where 
 
 -nothing teems 
 
 But hateful docks, rough thirties, keckfies, burs, 
 Lofing both beauty, 'and utility. 
 
 Of all this undergrowth I know but one 
 plant that is difagreeable ; and that is the 
 bramble. We fometimes fee it with effect, 
 fcrawling along the fragments of a rock, or 
 running among the rubbim of a ruin j and tho 
 it is even then a coarfe appendage, I fhould not 
 wi(h to remove it from landfcape. But as 
 a pendent plant it has no beauty. It does 
 not hang carelefsly, twitting round every 
 
 fupport,
 
 fupport, like the hop, and others of the 
 creeping tribe j but forms one ftiff, unpliant 
 curve. Nor has it any foliage to recommend 
 it. In other pendent plants, the leaf i$ 
 generally luxuriant, and hangs loofely in rich 
 feftoons : but in the fuckers of a bramble 
 the leaf is harm, fhrivelled, and difcoloured. 
 In fhort, it is a plant, which mould not, 
 I think, prefume in landfcape farther, than 
 hath juft been allowed : it has little beauty 
 in itfelf, and harmonizes as little with any 
 thing around it ; and may be characterized 
 among the moft infignificant of vegetable 
 reptiles. 
 
 But however beautiful thefe minuter plants, 
 and wild flowers may be in the natural 
 fcene ; yet no painter would endeavour to 
 reprefent them with exafinefs. They are 
 too common ; too undignified , and too much 
 below his fubject. Inftead of gaining the 
 character of an exact copier of nature by 
 a nice reprefentation of fuch trifles, he would 
 be efteemed puerile, and pedantic. Fern per- 
 haps, or dock, if his piece be large, he 
 might condefcend to imitate : but if he 
 wanted a few touches of red, or blue, or 
 yellow, to enliven, and inrich any particular 
 
 fpot
 
 ( 232 ) 
 
 fpot on his foreground; inftead of aiming 
 at the exact reprefentation of any natural 
 plant; he will more judicioufly give the 
 tint he wants in a few random general 
 touches of fomething like nature ; and leave 
 the fpedator, if he pleafe, to find out a 
 refemblance. Botanical precifion may pleafe 
 us in the flower-pieces of Van Huyfom; 
 but it would be paltry and affected in the 
 landfcapes of Claude, or Salvator. The fol- 
 lowing remark I found in a work of Dr. 
 Johnfon's ; which I tranfcribe, not only be- 
 caufe it is judicious, and may be introduced 
 here in place ; but becaufe it affords a 
 new argument to {hew the refemblance be- 
 tween poetry and painting. Johnfon was a 
 critic in the former; but I never heard, that 
 he was a judge of the latter. His opinion 
 therefore in a point of this kind, was unbiaffed. 
 " The bufinefs of a poet, fays he, is, to 
 examine not the individual, but the fpecies 
 to remark general, and large appearances. 
 He does not number the flreaks of the tulip, 
 nor defcribe the different fhades in the verdure 
 of the foreft. He is to exhibit in his portraits 
 of nature fuch prominent, and finking features, 
 as recall the original to every mind ; and mufl 
 
 neglect
 
 ( 233 ) 
 
 neglect the minuter difcriminations (which one 
 may have remarked, and another have neglected) 
 for thofe characteriftics, which are alike obvious 
 to attention and carelefsnefs*." 
 
 Pr. of Abyffin. p. 68.
 
 SECT. VII. 
 
 HAVING thus taken a view of the inter- 
 nal parts of a foreft; which confift 
 chiefly of fore-grounds - t we fliall now confider 
 the foreft in a light juft the reverfe, as con- 
 fifting chiefly of diflances. In both lights, it 
 is greatly pi&urefque ; and only more, or lefs 
 fo in either, as the eye is more pleafed with a 
 clofe, or a diffufive landfcape. 
 
 We fkirt, and penetrate the recefles of the 
 woods for the clofer view, but we frequent 
 the foreft-lawn, and heath, for the diftant one. 
 The beauty of thofe fcenes, (efpecially of the 
 heath, which is a large furface) depends, it is 
 true, in a great degree, on the play, and irre- 
 gularities of the ground ; but chiefly it depends 
 on the furrounding woods. 
 
 The foreft-lawn in itfelf is a mere field. 
 It is only when adorned with the furniture of 
 furrounding woods, that it produces it's eflfecl:. 
 
 The
 
 ( 236 ) 
 
 The foreft-heath alfo, when it is level, 
 and bounded only by the horizon, has 
 no charms for the eye. When it confifts of 
 well-mixed inequalities of ground, it gains 
 fomewhat more upon us. But when it is 
 bounded by woods in various parts, and 
 interfperfed, here and there, with clumps, 
 which gently unite it's woody boundaries with 
 it's area, it becomes an interefting fcene. 
 Sometimes alfo a variety of furze, fern, and 
 other wild plants, ftain it, in many parts, 
 with beautiful tints. Often too a winding 
 road paffes through it; or different roads 
 traverfing each other. Herds of cattle alfo of 
 different kinds continually frequent it's open 
 plains : and when thefe circumftances happily 
 unite, the heath becomes one of the beautiful 
 fcenes of the foreft. 
 
 As it is diftant wood however, on which the 
 foreft-lawn, and efpecially the foreft-heath 
 depend for their principal aid, I (hall dwell 
 a little on this copious fubjed: ; and fhall con- 
 fider it's moft pleafing circumftances under the 
 two heads of fuch as are permanent, and 
 fuch as are incidental. 
 
 But 
 

 
 ( 237 ) 
 
 But before I enter on the fubjecl: it may not 
 be amifs to remind the reader once more*, that 
 as the vaft fcenes of extenfive forefts, which 
 we are now confidering as diftances, are not 
 fubjecl: to art, the idea of fuggefting rules to 
 after, and improve them, is abfurd. All we 
 mean, is, to endeavour to teach the eye to 
 admire juftly; and to apply to artificial land- 
 fcape, thofe obfervations, which occur in 
 natural: for the fource of beauty is the fame 
 in both. 
 
 * Seepage 178.
 

 
 1 
 
 i 
 i 
 
 J 
 
 
 * 
 
 J
 
 ( 239 
 
 SECT. VIII. 
 
 THE permanent beauties of a diftant woody 
 fcene arife firft from it's form. There 
 is as much variety in the form of a dijlant wood, 
 as in that of a fingle tree. We fometimes fee 
 continuous woods ftretching along the horizon 
 without any break. All feems of equal 
 growth j the fummit of the wood is con- 
 tained under one flrait line. This, except 
 in very remote diftance, is formal, heavy, and 
 difgufling. The fhape of diftant woods is 
 then only pi&urefque, when it is broken by 
 a varied line. This variation is, in fome degree 
 occafioned by the different iizes of trees ; but as 
 the fize of trees, where the diftance is great, 
 has little effecT:, it is chiefly, and moft eflentially 
 occafioned by the inequalities of the ground. 
 
 A regular line at the bafe of a long range of 
 woody-fcenery, is almoft as difgufting as at 
 
 the
 
 fatfummit of it. The woods muft in fome 
 parts approach nearer the eye ; and in other 
 parts retire ; forming the appearance of bays, 
 and promontories. At leaft this is the moft 
 beautiful fhape, in which they appear. Some- 
 times indeed the inequalities of the ground, 
 prevent the eye from feeing the bafe of the 
 wood : for as the bafe is connected with the 
 ground, it is commonly more obfcured than the 
 fummit, which ranges along the iky. 
 
 All fquare, round, picked, or other formal 
 fhapes in diftant woods, are difgufting. 
 
 There mould not only be breaks, but 
 contraft alfo between the feveral breaks of a 
 diftant foreft-fcene. A line regularly varied 
 difgufts as much as an unvaried one. 
 
 Among the permanent beauties of diftant 
 woods, may be reckoned alfo the various kinds 
 of trees, of which they are often compofed. 
 Unlefs the diftance be great, this mixture has 
 it's erFe&, in the variety it produces both in 
 form and colour. Large bodies of fir alfo, 
 and other fpecies of pines, have often a rich 
 appearance in a diftance among deciduous 
 trees : but they muft be Scotch-firs, pinafters, 
 
 clufter-
 
 clutter-pines, or other clump-headed trees. 
 The fpiry-headed race, the fpruce-fir, the 
 iilver-fir and the Weymouth-pine, have here 
 too, as well as in the clump, a bad effect. 
 Single they are fometimes beautiful; or two 
 or three of them, here and there, by way of 
 contrail, in large plantations, may be pictu- 
 refque : but I think they are never fo in large 
 bodies. In general however the picture fque 
 eye is little curious with regard to the kind 
 of trees, which compofe a diftant fcene: for 
 there are few kinds, which do not harmonize 
 together. It matters more, in this bold ftile 
 of landfcape, that the maffes of each different 
 kind mould be large. The oppofition is then 
 flrongly marked; and the contraft ftriking. 
 If different trees are grouped in fmall bodies, the 
 effect is totally loft in diftance. 
 
 The laft fpecies of permanent beauty, which 
 we take notice of in diftant foreft-fcenery, 
 arifes from works of art. We mean not the 
 embellifhments of art ; but fuch rude works, 
 as may almoft be ftiled the works of nature 
 the productions of convenience, rather than of 
 tafte. We certainly draw the moft picture fque 
 
 VOL. I. R objects
 
 ( 242 ) 
 
 objects from the grand ftore-houfe of nature j 
 tho we condefcend to admit artificial objects 
 alfo -, but when they are admitted in this 
 clafs, they muft always be of the rough, rather 
 than of the polifhed kind. 
 
 Such objects we often meet with in the wild 
 fcenes of the foreft, fpires, towers, lodges, 
 bridges, cattle-fheds, cottages, winding pales, 
 and other things of the fame kind ; which 
 have often as beautiful an effect, when feen 
 at a diftance, as we have juft obferved they 
 have, when fparingly met with in the internal 
 parts of a foreft. Only the nearer the object 
 is, we expect it's form muft be the more pic- 
 turefque. Diftance, no doubt, hides defects ; 
 and many an objecl: may appear well in a 
 remove, which brought nearer, would difguft 
 the eye. 
 
 SECT.
 
 SECT. IX. 
 
 HAVING thus coniidered what may pro- 
 perly be called the permanent beauties 
 of diftant foreft-fcenery, we proceed to it's 
 incidental beauties. Thefe arife principally 
 from two caufes j the 'weather, and the fea- 
 fons. As both are changeable, they both 
 produce various appearances. The former 
 affects chiefly the Jky : the latter, the earth. 
 
 The weather is a fruitful fource of /- 
 cidental beauty ; and there are few ftates 
 of it, which do not imprefs fome peculiar 
 and pi&urefque character on landfcape, to 
 
 which it gives the leading tint. A country 
 
 is chiefly affected by the weather, when it 
 
 is hazy, and mijly or when the iky is inverted 
 
 R 2 with
 
 with fome cold tint or when the fun rlfes 
 or when it Jhines full at noon or when 
 it fets or laftly, when the day is Jlormy. 
 Each of thefe different ftates of the weather 
 admits much variation : but as it would be 
 endlefs to trace thefe variations into detail, 
 I mall take notice only of the general eff'etfs 
 of each ; and of thefe merely as they affeft 
 the foreft. In other works of this kind I 
 have touched upon thefe fources of incidental 
 beauty, as they affect lakes, and moun- 
 tains*. 
 
 The calm, overcaft, foft, day, fuch as 
 thefe climates often produce in the beginning 
 of autumn, hazy, mild, and undifturbed, 
 affords a beautiful medium ; fpreading over 
 the woods a fweet, grey, tint, which is ef- 
 pecially favourable to their diftant appearances. 
 The internal parts of the foreft receive little 
 advantages from this hazy medium : but the 
 various tuftings of diftant woods, are won- 
 derfully foftened by it ; a/id many a form, 
 and many a hue, which in the full glare 
 of fun-mine would be harm, and difcordant, 
 
 * See obfervations on the Jakes of Cumberland, and High- 
 lands of Scotland. 
 
 are
 
 ( 245 ) 
 
 are melted together in harmony. We of- 
 ten fee the effects of this mode of atmofphere 
 in various fpecies of landfcape ; but it has 
 no where a better effect, than on the woods 
 of the foreft. Nothing appears through mift 
 more beautiful, than trees a little removed 
 from the eye, when they are oppofed to trees 
 at hand : for as the foliage of a tree confifts 
 of a great number of parts, the contrail is 
 very pleating between the varied furface of 
 the tree at hand, and the dead, unvaried 
 appearance of the removed one. Very often 
 a picture in part unfinifhed, pleafes the eye 
 more from contrail, than when every part is 
 fully made out. Such often is the effect of 
 the hazy medium. 
 
 The light-mift is only a greater degree of 
 hazinefs. It's object is a nearer diftance ; as 
 
 a remote one is totally obfcured by it. 
 
 In this fituation of the atmofphere not only 
 all the ftrong tints of nature are obfcured j 
 but all the fmaller variations of form are loft. 
 We look only for a general mafs of foftened 
 harmony ; and fober colouring unmarked by 
 any ftrength of effect. The vivid hues of 
 autumn particularly, appear to great advan- 
 R 3 tage
 
 ( 246 ) 
 
 tage through this medium -> Sometimes thefe 
 
 mifts are partial -, and if they happen to 
 coincide with the competition of .the landfcape, 
 this partiality is attended with peculiar beauty. 
 I have remarked in other works of this 
 kind*, that when fome huge promontory 
 emerges from a fpreading mift, which hangs 
 over one part of it, it not only receives the 
 advantage of contraft, but it alfo becomes 
 an object of double grandeur. We often fee 
 the woods of the foreft alfo with peculiar 
 advantage, emerging through a mift in the 
 fame ftile of greatnefs. I have known like- 
 wife a nearer diftance, jlrongly illumined, 
 produce a good effecl: through a light drizzling 
 mower. 
 
 Nearly allied to mifts is another incidental 
 appearance, that of fmoke, which is often 
 attended with peculiar beauty in woody fcenes. 
 When we fee it fpreading in the foreft 
 glade, and forming a foft bluifh back-ground 
 to the trees, which intercept it ; their 
 foliage, and ramification appear to great ad- 
 vantage. 
 
 * See obfervations on Scotland, v. ii. p. 174. 
 
 Some-
 
 Sometimes alfo a good effect arifes, when 
 the fky, under the influence of a bleak north- 
 wind, cold and overcaft, is hung with blue, 
 or purple clouds lowering over the horizon. 
 If under that part of the atmofphere the 
 diftant foreft happens to range, it is overfpread 
 with a deep blue, or a purple tint from the 
 reflection of the clouds, and makes a very 
 
 picturefque appearance. And yet I mould 
 
 be cautious in advifing the painter to introduce 
 it with that full ftrength, in which he may 
 fometimes obferve it. The appearance of 
 blue and purple trees, unlefs in very remote 
 diflance, offends : and tho the artift may have 
 authority from nature for his practice ; yet the 
 fpectator, who is not verfed in fuch effects, 
 may be difpleafed. Painting, like poetry, is 
 intended to excite pleafure : and tho the 
 painter, with this view, mould avoid fuch 
 images, as are trite, and vulgar; yet he 
 (hould feize thofe only, which are eafy, and 
 intelligible. Neither poetry, nor painting is 
 a proper vehicle for the depths of learning. 
 The painter therefore will do well to avoid 
 every uncommon appearance in nature. 
 
 Within this caution however he will fpread 
 
 the prevailing tint of the day over his land- 
 
 R 4 fcape
 
 fcape over his whole landfcape. Nature tinges 
 all her pictures in this harmonious manner. 
 It is the greyifh tint ; or it is the blue , or 
 it is the purple ; or it is one of the vivid 
 tints of illumination, red, or yellow what- 
 ever it be, it blends with all the lights and 
 Ihadows of the piece. This great principle 
 of harmony, which arifes from the reflection 
 of colour, (in fome degree, even when the 
 air is diaphanous,) muft be obferved by every 
 painter, who wifhes to procure an effect. 
 His picture muft be painted from one pallet : 
 and one key, as in mufic, muft prevail through 
 his whole compofition. As the air however 
 is the vehicle of all thefe tints, it is evident, 
 that in diftances (in which we fee through 
 a deeper medium of tinged air) they will 
 prevail moft; and of courfe, very little on 
 foregrounds. The painter muft obferve this 
 rule of nature' by bringing his tints regularly 
 forward ; and his foregrounds he muft com- 
 pofe of fuch colours (mute, or vivid) as accord 
 beft with the general hue of his landfcape. 
 Yet ftill he will be cautious how he fpreads 
 even the prevailing tint too ftrongly. Much 
 error hath arifen from this fource; and ibme 
 painters under the idea of harmonizing, have 
 
 given
 
 ( 249 
 
 given us blue, and purple pictures. I know 
 not whether Poufiin himfelf did not fometimes 
 fall into this fault. Nature's veil is always 
 pure, and tranfparent ; yet, tho in itfelf hardly 
 difcoverable, it will ftill give it's kindred 
 tinge to the features, which are feen through 
 it. 
 
 We have now confidered incidental beauty as 
 
 arifing from the colder modifications of the air. 
 
 We ufe the word colder, not in a phyfical, but 
 
 in a picturefque fenfe, as productive only of 
 
 fiber colouring, unattended with any force of 
 
 effect. We come now to a more illuftrious 
 
 family of tints, the offspring of the fun. Thefe 
 are fertile fources of incidental beauty among 
 the woods of the fore ft. The characteriftic of 
 
 them is Jlrong effect. Let us firft examine 
 
 the incident of a riftng fun. 
 
 The firft dawn of day exhibits a beautiful 
 
 obfcurity. When the eaft begins juft to 
 
 brighten with the reflections only of effulgence ; 
 a pleafing, progreffive light, dubious, and 
 amufing, is thrown over the face of things. 
 A fingle ray is able to aflift the picture fque 
 eye ; which, by fuch (lender aid creates a 
 
 thoufand
 
 ( 2 5 ) 
 
 thoufand imaginary forms, if the fcene be 
 unknown; and as the light fteals gradually 
 on, is amufed by correcting it's vague ideas by 
 the real objects. What in the confufion of 
 twilight perhaps feemed a flretch of rifing 
 ground, broken into various parts, becomes 
 now vaft mafies of wood, and an extent of 
 foreft. 
 
 As the fun begins to appear above the hori- 
 zon, another change takes place. What was 
 before only form, being now inlightened, 
 begins to receive ejfeffi. This effect depends 
 on two circumftances, the catching lights, 
 which touch the fummits of every object; 
 and the mijlinefs, in which the rifing orb is 
 commonly inveloped. 
 
 The effect is often pleafmg, when the 
 fun rifes in unfullied brightnefs, diffufing it's 
 ruddy light over the upper parts of objects, 
 which is contrafted by the deeper lhadows 
 below : yet the effect is then only tranfcendent, 
 when he rifes, accompanied by a train of 
 vapours, in a mifty atmofphere. Among lakes 
 and mountains, this happy accompaniment 
 often forms the mofl aftoniming viiions : and 
 yet in the foreft it is nearly as great. With 
 what delightful effect do we fometimes fee the 
 
 fun's
 
 fun's difk jufl appear above a woody hill ; or 
 in Shakefpear's language, 
 
 ftand tip-toe on the mifty mountain's top, 
 
 and dart his diverging rays through the rifing 
 vapour. The radiance, catching the tops of 
 the trees, as they hang midway upon the 
 fhaggy fteep ; and touching here and there, 
 a few other prominent objects, imperceptibly 
 mixes it's ruddy tint with the furrounding 
 mills, fetting on fire, as it were, their upper 
 parts ; while their lower fkirts are loft in a 
 dark mafs of varied confufion ; in which trees, 
 and ground, and radiance, and obfcurity, arc 
 all blended together. When the eye is fortu- 
 nate enough to catch the glowing inftant, (for 
 it is always a vanishing fcene) it furnifhes an 
 idea worth treafuring among the choiceft 
 
 appearances of nature. MifHnefs alone, 
 
 we have obferved, occafions a confufion in 
 objects, which is often picturefque : but the 
 glory of the vifion depends on the glowing 
 lights, which are mingled with it. 
 
 Landfcape-painters, in general, pay too little 
 attention to the difcriminations of morning, 
 and evening. We are often at a lofs to dif- 
 tinguifh in pictures, the rifing from the fetting 
 
 fun ;
 
 ( 252 ) 
 
 fun; tho their characters are very different, 
 both in the lights, and fliadows. The ruddy 
 lights indeed of the evening are more eafily 
 diftinguifhed : but it is not perhaps always fuf- 
 fkiently obicrved, that the fhadows of the 
 evening are much lefs opaque, than thofe of 
 the morning. They may be brightened per- 
 haps by the numberlefs rays floating in the 
 atmofphere, which are inceflantly reverberated 
 in every direction -, and may continue in action 
 after the fun is fet. Whereas in the morning, 
 the rays of the preceding day having fubfided, 
 no object receives any light, but from the 
 immediate luftre of the fun. Whatever be- 
 comes of the theory, the fact, I believe, is 
 well afcertained. 
 
 The incidental beauties, which the meridian 
 fun exhibits, are much fewer than thofe of 
 the rijing fun. In fummer, when he rides 
 high at noon, and fheds his perpendicular ray, 
 all is illumination : there is no ihadow to 
 balance fuch a glare of light , ' no contraft to 
 oppofe it. The judicious artift therefore rarely 
 reprefents his objects under a vertical fun. 
 And yet no fpecies of landfcape bears it fo well 
 as the fcenes of the foreft. The tuftings of 
 trees, which of all objects are the richeft, 
 
 from
 
 ( 253 ) 
 
 from the little breaks of ftrong light and made 
 upon them the recefles formed by the re- 
 tiring boughs the lighter foliage thus hanging 
 over the darker, may all have an effect under 
 a meridian fun. I fpeak chiefly however of 
 the internal fcenes of the foreft, which bear 
 fuch total brightnefs, better than any other ; 
 as in them there is generally a natural gloom 
 to balance it. The light, obftructed by clofe, 
 intervening trees, will rarely predominate. 
 Hence the effect is often fine. A ftrong fun- 
 mine ftriking a wood,, through fome fortunate 
 chafm, and repofmg on the tuftings of a 
 clump, juft removed from the eye, and 
 ftrengthened by the deep fhadows of the 
 trees behind, appears to great advantage : 
 efpecially if fome noble tree, ftanding on the 
 foreground in deep fhadow, flings athwart the 
 fky it's dark branches, here and there illu- 
 mined with a fplendid touch of light. 
 
 In an open country, the moft fortunate cir- 
 cumftance, that attends a meridian fun, is 
 cloudy weather-, which occafions partial lights. 
 Then it is, that the diftant foreft-fcene is 
 fpread with lengthened gleams ; while the other 
 parts of the landfcape are in fhadow. Nothing 
 is more beautiful in itfelf: nothing illuftrates 
 
 more
 
 ( 254 ) 
 
 more happily that great principle, the gra- 
 dation of light. The tuftings of trees are 
 particularly adapted to catch thefe effects with 
 advantage. There is a richnefs in them from 
 the ftrong oppoiition of light, and made, 
 which is wonderfully fine, and a foftnefs, 
 which is very favourable to the principle of 
 gradation. A diftant foreft, thus illumined, 
 wants only a foreground to make it highly 
 picture fque. 
 
 As the fun defctnds, the effect of it's illumi- 
 nation becomes ftronger. It is a doubt, 
 whether the riling, or the fetting fun is more 
 picturefque. The great beauty of both depends 
 on the contrail between fplendor, and obfcu- 
 rity. But this contraft is produced by thefe 
 different incidents in different ways. The 
 grandeft effects of the riling fun, are produced 
 by the vapours which invelop it. The fetting 
 fun refts it's glory on the gloom, which often 
 accompanies it's parting rays. A depth of 
 fhadow, hanging over the eaftern hemifphere, 
 gives the beams of the fetting- fun fuch power- 
 ful effect, that altho in fact they are by no 
 means equal to the fplendor of a meridian fun, 
 yet through force of contraft they appear fu- 
 perior. 
 
 A diftant
 
 A diftant foreft-fcene, under this brightened 
 gloom, is particularly rich. The verdure of 
 the fummer leaf, and the varied tints of the 
 autumnal one, are all lighted up with glow- 
 ing colours. 
 
 The internal parts of the foreft, are not fo 
 happily difpofed to catch the effects of a 
 fetting-fun. The meridian ray, we have feen, 
 may dart through the openings at the top, 
 and produce a picture * : but the flanks of the 
 foreft are generally too well guarded againft 
 it's horizontal beams. Sometimes a recefs 
 fronting the weft may receive a beautiful light, 
 fpreading in a lengthened gleam, amidft the 
 gloom of the woods, which furround it : but 
 this can only be had in the out-ikirts of the 
 foreft. Sometimes alfo we find in it's internal 
 parts, tho hardly in it's deep recefTes, fplendid 
 lights, here and there, catching the foliage, 
 which tho in nature generally too fcattered 
 to produce an effect, yet if judicioufly col- 
 lected, may be beautiful on canvas. 
 
 We fometimes alfo fee in a woody fcene, 
 corrufcations, like a bright ftar, occafioned by 
 
 See page 253. 
 
 a fun-
 
 a fun-beam darting through an eyelet-hole 
 among the leaves. Many painters, and efpe- 
 cially Rubens, have been fond of introducing 
 this radiant fpot in their landfcapes. But in 
 painting it is one of thofe trifles, which pro- 
 duces no effeft. In poetry indeed it may pro- 
 duce a plealing image. Shakefpear hath intro- 
 duced it beautifully; where fpeaking of the 
 force of truth entring a guilty confcience, he 
 compares it to the fun, which 
 
 . fires the proud tops of the eaftern pines, 
 
 And darts his light through every guilty hole. 
 
 It is one of thofe circumftances, which poetry 
 may offer to the imagination ; but the pencil 
 cannot well produce to the eye ; and if it could, 
 it were better omitted; as it attracts the at- 
 tention from what is more interefting. 
 
 Under the famenefs of Italian fides the 
 beauties of a fetting-fun are hardly known. 
 There the radiant orb courfes his way with 
 equal fplendor from one end of the hemifphere 
 to the other. He fets gloriouily, but with 
 little variety. Nothing refracts his beam. To 
 the vapours of grofier climates, we owe thofe 
 beautiful tints, which accompany his whole 
 journey through the fkies; but efpecially his 
 parting ray. 
 
 Thus
 
 ( 257 ) 
 
 Thus far the fources of incidental beauty are 
 all derived from milder Jkies. But the turbu- 
 lence of the atmofphere is ftill a more fruitful 
 fource of pi&urefque effect, in the foreft, as 
 in other fcenes. Unaided indeed by fun-mine 
 the ftorm has little power. But when the 
 force of the tempeft feparates the clouds into 
 large, dark, convex forms; and the rays of 
 the fun ftream from behind them athwart a 
 clear horizon, if the objects correfpond, a very 
 fublime picture is exhibited. 
 
 No mafter was better acquainted with thefe 
 circumstances than the younger Vandervelt. 
 In all his fea-ftorms he avails himfelf of 
 them ; and is remarkable for the grand 
 maiTes of light, and made, which he pro- 
 duces. 
 
 The land-ftorm is equally a fource of 
 beauty. When the tempeft fcowls over the 
 foreft, as we traverfe it's deep recefles, what 
 grandeur do the internal parts of it receive 
 from the cafual ray darting upon them ! Or 
 when we view it as a diftant object, and fee 
 the ftorm blackening behind the trees ; with 
 what wonderful effect does the fun, in an 
 VOL. i. S oppofite
 
 ( 258 ) 
 
 oppofite direction, ftrike their tufted heads ! 
 But if that fun be fetting, while the tem- 
 peft is brewing over the hemifphere, black 
 towards the eaft lurid more purple and 
 glowing with red, as it advances towards 
 the weft then it is, that the utmoft value 
 is given to it's effeSt. The caftle, the lake, 
 or the foreft-fcene, whether viewed in fhadow 
 againft the ruddy light, or illumined under 
 the ftorm ; appear in full grandeur ; and we 
 fee all that light and made in extreme 
 contention, yet fully harmonized, can pro- 
 duce. 
 
 Vain are thy hopes by colouring to difplay 
 
 The bright effulgence of the noon-tide ray; 
 
 Or paint the full-orbed ruler of the flues 
 
 With pencils dipt in dull, terreftrial dies. 
 
 But when mild evening fheds her golden light, 
 
 When morn appears, arrayed in modeft white ; 
 
 When foft fuffufions of the vernal fhower, 
 
 Dims the pale fun ; or, at the thund'ring hour, 
 
 When wrapt in crimfon clouds, he hides his head; 
 
 Then catch the glow, and on the canvas fpread. 
 
 I know no appearance indeed in nature, 
 that is more awfully grand, than the con- 
 junction of a ftorm, and a fun-fet, on fome 
 noble mafs of foreft-fcenery. We may eafily 
 conceive, that ignorance and fuperflition might 
 
 magnify
 
 ( 259 ) 
 
 magnify fiich a refplendent gloom into fome- 
 thing fupernatural. In a paflage, which I 
 lately quoted from Virgil, an idea of this 
 kind is very picturefque, as well as poetically 
 introduced. It is in the interview between 
 /Eneas and Evander, when the old chief 
 informs his noble gueft, that frequently in 
 tempefts the fimple Arcadians believed, they 
 faw heavenly forms behind the groves of the 
 Tarpeian rock. 
 
 Hoc nemus ; hunc, inquit, frondofo vertice collem, 
 (Quis deus, incertum eft) habitat deus. Arcades ipfum 
 Credunt fe vidifle Jovem, cum J<fpe nigrantem 
 concitterct dextra, nimbofque fieret. 
 
 As thefe great effects are certainly the moft 
 pkturefque of all aerial appearances, it is 
 rather furprizing, that landfcape-painters, in 
 general, make fo little ufe of them. It 
 is much more common to fee landfcape 
 painted under the uniform brightnefs of an 
 equal light, than to fee it illumined by 
 thefe grand circumftances of the atmofphere, 
 in which light, and fhade are fo happily 
 combined. 
 
 The landfcape-painter may fay, that effects 
 like thefe are uncommon ; and he choofes to 
 paint nature as he generally fees her. 
 
 82' The
 
 ( 2 6o ) 
 
 The idea is good : but certainly thefe 
 effects are common enough to have been 
 often the object of every one's obfervation. 
 He will not, I fuppofe, take the comnioneft 
 objefts as he finds them. And if he felect 
 his objefts - y why not the moji beautiful mode 
 of exhibiting them ? The great effects of morn- 
 ing and evening funs, of mifts, and ftorms, 
 are not more uncommon, than natural com- 
 binations of beautiful objects. But the real 
 
 truth feems to be, that fuch effects are the 
 moft difficult to manage, and require great 
 ftudy, and obfervation. The artift therefore, 
 who paints for his bread, rather than his 
 character (an evil attending the art, which 
 can never be removed) choofes fuch an ex- 
 hibition of light, and made, as is the mofl 
 eafy to himfelf j and may likewife be mofl 
 pleafing to the generality of his undiflin- 
 guifhing employers. Hence we have fo great 
 a number of glaring landfcapes, which depend 
 on nothing, but the beauty, and colouring 
 of a few particular objects ; without any 
 attention to thofe grand effects, which make 
 landfcape by many degrees, the moft fublime, 
 and interefting. 
 
 It is perhaps one of the great errors in 
 painting (as indeed it is in literary, as well 
 
 as
 
 as in pidurefque compofition) to be more 
 attentive to the fmifhing of parts, than to 
 the production of a whole. Whereas the 
 matter's great care fhould be, firft to contrive 
 a whole ; and then to adapt the parts, as 
 artificially as he can. I fpeak of imaginary 
 landfcape : when he paints a particular view, 
 his management muft be juft the reverfe. 
 He has the parts given him ; and he muft 
 form them into a whole, as he can : and this 
 is often difficult. 
 
 Nothing however tends fo much to pro- 
 duce a whole, as a proper diftribution of 
 light, and fhade - y which we beft obtain, 
 when we prefent a landfcape under one of 
 thefe grand effects of nature. A common 
 
 fun-mine furnifhes lights not majjes. It 
 
 may throw a beautiful illumination on par- 
 ticular objects ; but the grand effetts of nature 
 furnim the only opportunities of fprming the 
 maj/es of each. 
 
 What gives the mod grandeur to thefe 
 effects is a predominancy of Jhade -, which has 
 always more dignified ideas annexed to it, 
 than a predominancy of light. And yet how 
 little is this obferved ? In the generality of 
 pi&ures, and prints, you fee the balance on 
 S 3 the
 
 ( 262 ) 
 
 the other fide ; and are often offended with 
 glaring fpots of light, which deftroy the idea 
 of a whole. The painter mould examine his 
 piece therefore with great care. He may put 
 out one light, after another j and reviewing 
 his work with a frefh eye, may ftill find 
 fome glaring part to erafe, before he venture 
 it abroad. On this occaiion he may apply 
 with good fenfe, and form into an adage, a 
 very nonfenfical expreffion, (as it appears) in 
 Shakefpear : 
 
 Put out the light and then put out the light. 
 
 If the artificial reprefentation of every fubjecl 
 ieems rather to require a balance of made, 
 in jublime fubjeffis it is flill more required. 
 All writers on fublime fubjects deal in fhadows, 
 and obfcurity*. The grandeur of Jehovah 
 is commonly reprefented by the Hebrew writers 
 Behind a cloud. The imagination makes up 
 deficiences by grander ideas, than it is poflible 
 for the pencil to produce. Many images owe 
 much of their fublimity to their indijiinttnefs ; 
 and frequently what we call fublime is the 
 effect of that heat and fermentation, which 
 
 See Burke on the fublime. 
 
 enfues
 
 enfues in the imagination from it's ineffectual 
 efforts to conceive fome dark, obfcure idea 
 beyond it's grafp. Bring the fame within the 
 compafs of it's comprehenfion, and it may 
 continue great -, but it will ceafe to be fublime. 
 This fpecies of the fublime is oftener found in 
 the compofition of the poet than of the 
 painter. In general, the poet has great ad- 
 vantages over the painter, in the procefs of 
 fublimication, if the term may be allowed. 
 The bufinefs of the former is only to excite 
 ideas -, that of the latter, to reprefent them. 
 The advantage of excited, over reprefented 
 ideas is very great, inafmuch as they are in 
 fome degree the reader's own production, and 
 are fufceptible of thofe modifications, which 
 make them peculiarly acceptable to the mind, 
 in which they are raifed. Whereas the others 
 being confined within a diftinct, and unal- 
 terable outline, admit of none of the modi- 
 fications, which flatter the particular tafte of 
 the fpe&ator, but muft make their way by 
 their own intrinfic force. 
 
 S 4 SECT.
 
 SECT. X. 
 
 'E have now treated of the incidental 
 beauty of foreft-fcenery as arifmg from 
 the weather; we examine it next as anting 
 
 from the feafons. Each feafon hath beauties 
 j j 
 
 peculiar to itfelf. 
 
 The early fpring is not very favourable to 
 the ftudy of landfcape. Nature is yet unfold- 
 ing herfelf, and is in her progrefs only to 
 perfection. The bloom of many trees, gay 
 and fantaftic in it's colouring, and form, may 
 be beautiful and curious in itfelf; but is ill- 
 adapted to harmonize, and unite with other 
 objects. And yet we fometimes fee tints, 
 which produce a pleating effect. The budding 
 oak difplays great variety. Among neighbour- 
 ing oaks, the bud of one is a tender green ; of 
 another almoft yellow; of a third an oker- 
 brown, perhaps nearly inclining to red ; yet 
 
 each
 
 ( 266 ) 
 
 each of thefe, as it opens, will probably accord 
 harmonioufly with the tint of it's neighbour. 
 But all trees have not the accommodating 
 qualities of the oak : the early moots of 
 ever-greens, particularly of the Scotch-fir, are 
 feldom in harmony with the foliage of the 
 parent- tree. 
 
 As fummer advances, the foreft aflumes a 
 more determined, and connected form. The 
 germs and leaves are all unfolded ; the hue of 
 the foliage becomes harmonious ; and the tuf- 
 tings of the trees are prepared as beds for mafles 
 of light to reft on ; which the fpray, and the 
 bloom of early fpring, unconnected, and un- 
 formed, could not fully receive. 
 
 So far we have gained by the progrefs of the 
 year. But the great objection to fummer 
 arifes from the uniformity of it's hue. The 
 face of nature is covered with one unvaried 
 mantle of green : for tho the nicer eye may 
 trace many mades in this general colour ; yet, 
 on the whole, it is both too vivid, and too 
 uniform, for the pencil. 
 
 The
 
 The reign of fummer fcarcely indures three 
 months. The leaves, within that period, 
 begin to change their hue, and give way to 
 autumn ; which prefents an appearance much 
 more picturefque ; and indeed the moft replete 
 with Incidental beauty of any feafon of the year. 
 This is fo evident, that painters have chofen 
 the autumn, with almoft univerfal predilection, 
 as the feafon of landfcape. The leafy furface 
 of the foreft is at that time, fo varied; and 
 the malfes of foliage are yet fo full, that they 
 allow the artift great latitude in producing 
 his tints, without injuring the breadth of his 
 lights. 
 
 The fading, many-coloured woods, 
 
 Shade deepening over fhade, the country round 
 Imbrown ; a varied umbrage, duflc, and dun ; 
 Of every hue, from wan, declining green, 
 To footy dark 
 
 Yet the autumn, in it's wane, is not fo 
 pleafmg. It has too forlorn an afpect. The 
 leaves are withered ; and their tufts fhrivelled, 
 and fhapelefs. This remark however affects 
 trees only at hand. The home-plantation 
 fuffers, where you walk fo near the fading 
 
 tree,
 
 ( 268 ) 
 
 tree, as to fee nature in decay : but at a diftance 
 
 the withered effect is not eafily difcerned. 
 
 In the wane of autumn however there are other 
 defeats. The am, and fome other trees, have 
 deferted their ftation , in the foreft : they 
 have med their leaves, and left a cheerlefs 
 
 blank. Befides, the verdure of the foreft 
 
 is too much wafted ; and the brown, and 
 yellow tints, beautiful as they are, become too 
 predominant : for the prevalence of thefe hues 
 in autumn, fatigues the eye no lefs than the 
 prevalence of green in fummer. Only indeed 
 the autumnal tints will ever be more varied. 
 The intermediate time is the feafon of pic- 
 turefque beauty; when the greens, and the 
 browns, and the yellows, are blended together 
 by a variety of middle tints, which often create 
 the moft exquilite harmony. 
 
 Of all the hues of autumn, thofe of the oak 
 are commonly the moft harmonious. As it's 
 vernal tints are more varied, than thofe of 
 other trees j fo are it's autumnal. In an 
 oaken wood you fee every variety of green, 
 and every variety of brown ; owing either to 
 the different expofure of the tree ; it's different 
 foil -, or it's different nature : but it is not my 
 bufmefs to enquire into caufes. 
 
 In
 
 ( 269 ) 
 
 In the beechen grove you feek in vain for 
 this variety. In the early autumn indeed you 
 fee it, when the extremities only of the tree 
 are juft tinged with oker : but as the year 
 advances, the eye is generally fatigued with one 
 deep monotony of orange ; tho among all the 
 hues of autumn, it is in itfelf perhaps the 
 moft beautiful. The painter imitates it the 
 moft happily by a touch of terra de Sienna. 
 But the eye is palled even with beauty in 
 profufion, and calls for contraft. 
 
 The fame uniformity reigns, tho of a dif- 
 ferent hue, when am, or elm prevails. No 
 fading foliage indeed of any one kind that I 
 know, produces harmony, except that of the 
 oak. 
 
 The hues however of the diftant foreft, when 
 moft difcordant, are often harmonized by the 
 intervening trees on the foreground. We can 
 bear the glow of the diftant beech-wood, 
 when it is contrafted at hand by a fpreading 
 oak, whofe foliage hath yet fcarce loft it's 
 fummer-tint or by an elm, or an am, whofe 
 fading leaves have aflumed a yellowim hue. 
 
 But after all, the autumnal foreft is an 
 inftrument eafily untuned. One frofty night, 
 or parching blaft, may introduce fome ftrik- 
 
 ing
 
 ( 2 7 ) 
 
 ing difcord ; tho on the other hand, it is 
 true, by foftening fome difcordant tint, it may 
 as eafily introduce a harmony, which did not 
 exift before. Here art comes to the aid of 
 nature. The pencil fixes the fcene in the 
 happy moment -, and the fading tints of autumn 
 become perennial. 
 
 I have known fome planters endeavour, in 
 their improvements, to range their trees in 
 fuch a manner; as in the wane of the year, 
 to receive all the beauty of autumnal colouring. 
 The attempt is vain, unlefs they could fo 
 command the weather as to check, or produce 
 at pleafure, thofe tints, which nature hath 
 fubjected to fo many accidents. A general 
 direction is all that can be given. Oak is 
 rarely in difcord; but beech and elm can as 
 rarely be depended on. All mufl be left to 
 chance ; and after the utmoft that art can do, 
 the wild foreft, with it's cafual difcords, and 
 monotonies, will prefent a thoufand beauties, 
 which no fkill of man can rival. 
 
 Thus the beauties of the waning year are 
 fixed rather by the weather, than by the 
 calendar. We often fee them vanifh in Octo- 
 ber : and we fometimes fee a fine autumnal effect 
 in the beginning of november: nay even later 
 
 we
 
 ( 27' ) 
 
 we may trace the beauties of the declining 
 year, and 
 
 catch the laft fmile 
 
 Of autumn beaming o'er the yellow woods. 
 
 Even when the beauty of the landfcape is 
 gone, the charms of autumn may remain. 
 After the rage of fummer is abated ; and before 
 the rigours of winter are yet fet in, there are 
 often days of fuch heavenly temperature, that 
 every mind muft feel their effect. Thompfon, 
 to whom the beauties of nature were familiar, 
 thus defcribes a day of this kind : 
 
 -The morning (bines, 
 
 Serene in all it's dewy beauties bright, 
 
 Unfolding fair the laft autumnal day. 
 
 O'er all the foul it's facred influence breathes, 
 
 Inflames imagination, through the breafl 
 
 Infufes every tendernefs, and far 
 
 Beyond dim earth exalts the fwelJing thought. 
 
 To the pi&urefque beauties of autumn we may 
 add, that the fetting fun, at that feafon, is 
 commonly richer, than when the days are of 
 the fame length in the fpring ; or indeed at 
 any other feafon. 
 
 But
 
 But the leafy for eft is not folely the objeft 
 of incidental beauty. The pi&urefque eye finds 
 great amufement even in it's wintry-fcenes j 
 when it has thrown it's rich mantle afide, 
 and appears to the common eye naked, and 
 deformed. 
 
 The hazy fun-mine of a frofty morning, 
 is accompanied with an indiftin&nefs peculiar 
 to itfelf. The common hazinefs of a fum- 
 mer-day fpreads over the landfcape one general 
 grey tint; and as we have had occafion to 
 remark in different circumftances, is often 
 the fource of great beauty. But the effecl: 
 we are here obferving, is of a different kind. 
 It is generally more partial more rich and 
 mixing with ftreaks of different coloured 
 clouds, which often form behind it, produces 
 a very pleafing effect. 
 
 Great beauty alfo arifes in winter from the 
 different tints of the fpray. The dark brown 
 fpray of the birch, for inftance, has a good 
 effecl:, among that of a lighter tihge : and 
 when the forefl is deep, all this little bufhinefs 
 of ramification hath, in fome degree, the effecl: 
 of foliage. 
 
 The
 
 ( 273 ) 
 
 The boles of trees like wife, and all their 
 larger limbs, add, at this feafon, a rich variety, 
 and contrail to the forefl ; the fmooth and the 
 rough, the light and the dark, often beauti- 
 fully oppoiing each other. In winter, the jiem 
 predominates, as the leaf in fummer. It is 
 amu/ing in one feafon to fee the branches 
 loling, and difcovering themfelves among 
 the foliage ; and it is amufing alfo, in the 
 other, to walk through the defolate fore ft, 
 and fee the various combinations of ftem 
 the traveding of branches acrofs each other, 
 in fo many beautiful directions and the pains, 
 which nature takes in forming a wood, as well 
 as a Jingle tree*. She leaves no part unclofedj 
 but puming in the branch, or the fpray, as 
 the opening allows, fhe fills all vacant fpace ; 
 and brings the heads of the trees, which grow 
 near each other, into contact ; while every 
 ftep we take, prefents us with fome beau- 
 tiful variety in her mode of forming the fretted 
 roof, under which we walk. 
 
 In winter too the effect of ever-greens is 
 often pleating. Holly, when it happens to 
 
 * See page 106. 
 
 VOL. i. T be
 
 ( 274 ) 
 
 be well combined, and mixed in juft pro- 
 portion, makes an agreeable contraft. Ivy 
 hanging round the oak, if it be not too pro- 
 fufe, we have already obferved, is a beautiful 
 appendage to it's grandeur. I have feen fome 
 parts of the foreft, where the ftem of almoft 
 every tree was covered with it. This indeed 
 was not picturefque -, but it gave the wood 
 a very odd appearance, by exhibiting fo total 
 an inverfion of nature. In fummer, the tops 
 of the trees are green, and their ftems com- 
 monly bare. Here the tops were bare, while 
 the ftems were in full leaf. 
 
 In a light hoar-froft, before the fun, and 
 air begin to make the powder from the trees, 
 the wintry foreft is often beautiful ; and almoft 
 
 exhibits the effecl: of tufted foliage. As 
 
 fingle objects alfo, trees, under this circum- 
 ftance, are curious. The black branches, 
 whofe under-fides are not covered with rime, 
 often make a fingular contraft with the 
 whitened fpray. Trees of minuter ramifi- 
 cation and foliage, as the beech, the elm, and 
 the fir, appear under this circumftance, to 
 moft advantage. The am, the horfe-chefnut, 
 and other plants of coarfer form, have no 
 
 great beauty. Trees alfo, thus covered 
 
 with
 
 ( 275 ) 
 
 with hoar-froft, have fometimes if not a 
 pidlurefque at lead an uncommon effect, 
 when they appear againft a lurid cloud ; 
 efpecially when the fun mines ftrongly upon 
 them. 
 
 But altho many appearances in winter are 
 beautiful, and amufing; and fome of them 
 even picture fque > yet the judicious painter 
 will rarely introduce them in landfcape ; 
 becaufe he has choice of more beautiful effects, 
 when nature appears drefled to more advan- 
 tage. 
 
 Pidlurefque pleafure arifes from two fources 
 from the beauty, and combination of the objeftf 
 reprefented ; and from the exattnefs of the 
 reprefentation. Thus we are pleafed with the 
 picture of a noble landfcape, the competition 
 of which is juft, and the lights well-difpofed : 
 and yet a fort of pleafure arifes from feeing 
 a bright table, a deal-board, or. a rafher of 
 bacon naturally reprefented*. But while the 
 
 former 
 
 * Deceptions of this kind ufed frequently to be hung up in 
 the exhibition-room, in London, among the works of capital 
 artifts, where indeed they were unworthy of a place. 
 
 Since this paflage was written, I have met with the following 
 
 excellent remark in one of Sir Jofhua Reynold's notes on Mr. 
 
 T a Mafon's
 
 ( 2/6 ) 
 
 former of thefe is the work of genius, the 
 latter is a mere mechanical knack. The one 
 therefore is admired by the man of tafte the 
 other, except for a moment, only by the ig- 
 norant, and uninformed. 
 
 This is juft the cafe before us. The 
 painter, who choofes a winter-fubject, in ge- 
 neral, gives up compofition, and effect, to 
 mew how naturally he can reprefent fnow, 
 or hoar-froft. It is almoft impoffible to pro- 
 duce a good effect with thefe appendages of 
 winter : they mufl naturally create falfe, and 
 glaring lights , to which the painter generally 
 makes his compolition fubfervient. 
 
 Among the fources of incidental beauty 
 in a foreft, may be mentioned, (what perhaps 
 may appear odd) the felling of timber. If 
 you wifh to fell trees with fome particular 
 
 Mafon's tranflation of Frefnoy, p. 114. " Deception, 
 
 which is fo often recommended by writers on the theory of 
 painting, inftead of advancing the art, is in reality carrying 
 it back to it's infant ftate. The firft eflays of painting were 
 certainly nothing but mere imitations of individual objefts ; and 
 when this amounted to a deception, the artift had accomplifhed 
 his purpofe. 
 
 view
 
 view to improvement, the intention is often 
 fruftrated. It muft be done artfully, and con- 
 fiderately, or in general, your defign will be 
 fruftrated. The mafter of the fcene himfelf, 
 who is always on the fpot, and examines it 
 frequently from every ftand, if he be a man 
 of tafte, will be the beft improver, and direct 
 the felling axe with moft judgment. At the 
 fame time, we frequently fee trees cut down 
 carelefsly, for the purpofe of utility, which have 
 opened greater beauties, than any they poilefied 
 themfelves, when ftanding ; tho the precon- 
 ceived lofs of them was greatly lamented. 
 But this can only happen where trees a- 
 bound. 
 
 I mail conclude this enumeration of the 
 incidental beauties belonging to foreft-fcenery, 
 with an appendage, which we frequently 
 fee in it that of a timber- wain, an object 
 of the moft picturefque kind, efpecially when 
 drawn by oxen. Here the tree when dead, 
 adorns again the landfcape, which it adorned 
 when living. A gilded chariot is an objecl, 
 which art has induftrioufly tricked out, and 
 decorated. It is of a piece therefore with 
 T 3 all
 
 all fuch artificial objeds, as are the moil 
 unlike nature. Whereas the timber- wain is 
 at leail a piece of fimple art -, and the rude- 
 nefs of it's form, and materials, is a property, 
 which it has in common with the works of 
 
 nature. Oxen too are more pi&urefque in 
 
 themfelves than horfes. Much of the beauty 
 
 however of this incident arifes from it's 
 being adapted to the fcene. A wain of tim- 
 ber is beautiful in a foreil, but would lofe 
 much of it's beauty in the flreets of a town. 
 
 Thus I have enumerated the moil common 
 fources of permanent, and incidental beauty in 
 foreil-landfcape. I have iniiiled only on the 
 moil common fources. An eye, inquiiitive in 
 the fcenes of nature, will inveiligate many 
 
 others. Having detained the reader perhaps 
 
 too long in this examination, I ihall endeavour 
 to relieve him by a few general obfervations 
 on forejl-biftory. 
 
 SECT.
 
 279 
 
 SECT. XI. 
 
 T2)ERHAPS of all fpecies oflandfcape, there 
 "- is none, which fo univerfally captivates 
 mankind, as foreft-fcenery : and our prepof- 
 fefTion in favour of it appears in nothing more, 
 than in this ; that the inhabitants of bleak 
 countries, totally deftitute of wood, are gene- 
 rally confidered, from the natural feelings of 
 mankind, as the objects of pity. 
 
 Pliny has given us a view of this kind, 
 which he tells us, he took himfelf upon the 
 fpot. It reprefents a bleak fea-coafl in Zea- 
 land, before that country was embanked; 
 the inhabitants of which he fpeaks of as the 
 moft wretched of human beings. It is true, 
 there are other wants, befides that of fcenery, 
 which enter into the idea of their wretched- 
 nefs ; yet I dare affirm, that if Pliny had 
 found the fame people, with all their wants 
 T 4 about
 
 ( 280 ) 
 
 about them, in a country richly furnifhed with 
 wood, he would have fpoken of them in dif- 
 ferent language. Pliny's picture is in itfelf 
 
 fo good, and is likewife fo excellent a contraft 
 to the fcenes, which we have juft examined, 
 that I think it worth inferting. I mall rather 
 give the general fenfe of the paffage, than an 
 exact tranflation of it. 
 
 " This coaft, fays he, lies fo much lower 
 than the ocean, that the tides daily overflow 
 it. The inhabitants build their huts on little 
 eminences, which they either find, or con- 
 ftrud; on the mores ; and which ferve to raife 
 their dwellings juft above the water-mark. 
 Thefe dwellings, or rather cabins, when the 
 tide rifes, often feem like floating boats : and 
 when it retires, the inhabitants appear like 
 flranded mariners ; and their cottages like 
 wrecks. Their harveft is the ebbing of the 
 fea : during which they are every where feen 
 running about in queft of fifh ; and purfuing 
 them in each little creek of the more, as the 
 tide deferts it. They have neither horfe, nor 
 cow, nor domeftic animal of any kind -, and 
 as to game, they have not the leaft appearance 
 of a bum, to fhelter it. The whole employ- 
 ment of this wretched people is fifhing. They 
 
 make
 
 make their nets of fea-weed; and dry a kind 
 flimy mud, for fuel. Rain-water is their only 
 drink, which they preferve in ditches, dug 
 before their cabins*." 
 
 Such is Pliny's picture of this bleak, and 
 defolate country. From the very feelings of 
 nature, we fhudder at it. Whereas the idea 
 of the foreft is plealing to every one. The 
 cafe is, tho there may be as much real mifery 
 amidft beautiful fcenery ; yet beautiful fcenery 
 covers it. Wretchednefs is often felt under 
 fplendid apparel ; but it does not ftrike us in 
 fiich attire, as it does in rags. 
 
 That man was originally a foreft-animal 
 appears from every page of his early hiilory. 
 Trace the firft accounts of any people, and 
 you will find them the inhabitants of woods ; 
 if woods were to be found in the countries in 
 which they lived. Caves, thickets, and 
 trunks of trees, were their retreats : and acorns 
 their food ; with fuch beafts, as they took in 
 hunting ; which afforded them only a preca- 
 rious fupply. 
 
 * See Pliny's Nat. hift. book xvi. cap. i. 
 
 Hare
 
 ( 282 ) 
 
 Haec nemora indigense Fauni, nymphaeque tenebant 
 
 Genfque virum truncis, et duro robore nata* : 
 
 Queis neque mos, neque cultus erat ; nee jungere tauros, 
 
 Aut componere opes norant, ant parcere parto ; 
 
 Sed rami, atque afper viftu venatus alebat. 
 
 If indeed they lived near a coaft, like the 
 Zealanders defcribed by Pliny, they obtained 
 a livelihood by fifhing. But with the favages 
 of the coaft we have nothing to do. Our 
 attention is only engaged by the favage of the 
 woods. 
 
 While man continued thus an inmate of 
 the foreft, it is poffible he might have fagacity 
 to build himfelf a hut of boughs, which he 
 might cover with clods : and yet it is more 
 probable, that while he continued the mere 
 child of nature, he was contented with the 
 fimple fhelter, which Virgil above fuppofes his 
 common mother furnifhed; the imbowering 
 thicket, or the hollow trunk -, as fummer, or 
 winter led him to prefer an open, or a clofer 
 cover. Strabo fpeaks of certain Afiatics, even 
 fo late in the hiftory of mankind, as the times 
 of Pompey the great, who harboured, like 
 
 * jE?cr, and living in trunks of trees, as Ruaeus well explains 
 it ; not produced from them. 
 
 birds,
 
 birds, in the tops of trees*. And I think the 
 favages about Botany-bay are not reprefented 
 by our late difcoverers in a much more im- 
 proved condition. 
 
 Man in this folitary ftate (for fcarcity of 
 food forbad any inlarged ideas of fociety) 
 waged but unequal war with his brother- 
 favages, the brutes. Moft of them out-ftripped 
 him in fpeed : many of them contended with 
 him in ftrength; and fome nearly equalled 
 him in fagacity. 
 
 The human favage thus finding himfelf hard 
 put to it, even to defend his own, might 
 look round for afliftance. The dog, whofe 
 friendly manners -J- might folicit his acquain- 
 tance, 
 
 * Lib. xii. p. 549. edit. Cafaub. 
 
 f That there is fomething very harmonious between the 
 human and canine nature, is the obfervation of all naturalifts. 
 Every other domeftic animal is attached to his habitation : the 
 dog alone to his matter. Build a fhed for horfes, or cows, in 
 any place ; and let them be well fupplied with food ; and they 
 are perfeftly happy. They know their keeper indeed; but 
 they are no way difturbed, if his lofs be fupplied by another, 
 who feeds them as well. Let a family leave a houfe, and a 
 new family occupy it, the cat complains of nothing; except 
 the buftle of a remove. But the dog, carry him where you 
 will, and feed him with the moft grateful food, enjoys for a 
 
 long
 
 ( 284 ) 
 
 tance, was probably one of his firft aflbciates. 
 This union made a powerful party in the foreft. 
 The great object of it however was rather food, 
 than conquer!. The dog, and his mailer were 
 both carnivorous animals ; and they foon be- 
 gan to gratify their appetites at the expence 
 of their fellow-brutes. The one conducting, 
 and the other executing the plan, few crea-^ 
 tures could oppofe them*. 
 
 But 
 
 long time, no happinefs, if he be deprived of his beloved 
 matter. He forms new attachments in time: but he never 
 forgets an old friendfliip. The friendfhip of a dog Homer has 
 thought of confequence to introduce in an epic poem. 
 
 * In the third volume of the literary fociety of Manchefter, 
 we have a letter from Dr. Rufli of Penfylvania ; in which there 
 is an account of the mode of fettling in the American woods. 
 Thefe fettlers feem to be little better, than the favages repre- 
 fented above. 
 
 The firft object of the fettler is to build a fmall cabin of rough 
 Jogs. The light is received through the crevices of the door; 
 and fometimes through a window of greafed paper. To this 
 labour fucceeds that of killing the trees around his cabin, (for 
 he has not time to fell them) which is done by hacking off the 
 bark around each, about two or three feet from the root. Having 
 thus obtained air, and funlhine, he ploughs a little patch of 
 ground, from which he obtains a crop of Indian corn. In 
 the mean time he feeds his family on fifh, and game, with a 
 fmall quantity of grain, which he brought with him. His 
 cow and horfe find pafture enough.'. As population increafes 
 
 around
 
 But man, from the beginning, was an 
 ambitious animal. Having filled his belly, 
 he afpired after dominion. For this purpofe 
 it was neceffary for him to procure a better 
 ally, than that he had chofen. He had yet 
 but little connection with his fellow. To 
 join, now and then, in a hunting-party was 
 all the intercourfe he knew. It was little 
 more than fuch a league, as is found among 
 wolves, jackalls, and other animals, that 
 hunt in packs. Ideas of fociety however by 
 degrees took place. The dawnings of focial 
 compact appeared. Man now throwing off the 
 brute, thought it good to leave his fcat- 
 tered tenements, and to a/Terrible in hords. 
 The rudiments of law were traced, and fome 
 rude fketch of fubordination. In earneft he 
 began now to fhew his dominion. By fel- 
 lowmip he had increafed his ftrength. The 
 horfe, the bullock, and other animals were 
 
 around him he becomes more ftraitened. Formerly his cattle 
 ranged at large. He is now called on by his neighbours to 
 keep them within fences, to prevent their trefpaffing. And if he 
 cannot bear the reftriftions of fociety, which more and more 
 circumfcribe him, he muft retreat ftill farther into the woods ; 
 and giving up the produce of his labour for a trifling confide- 
 ration, muft begin, as many do, his favage life anew. 
 
 reclaimed
 
 ( 286 ) 
 
 reclaimed from the foreft; fome for focial 
 affiftance ; and others for a lefs precarious 
 fupply of food 5 while the fhaggy tenants of 
 the foreft, which were hoftile to his plans, 
 began every where to give way; prowling 
 only by night; and fkulking by day in fuch 
 deep receffes, as might beft fecure them from 
 the formidable aflbciation, which had taken 
 place. 
 
 But ftill his native foreft was his delight. 
 Here, in fome opening furrounded with woods, 
 the hord firft fettled. Here the firft attempts 
 of architecture were made : the krail was laid 
 out by rule, and line ; and the firft draughts 
 of regular defence were imagined. Ca?far, 
 with all his boafted conqUefts, found the 
 Gauls, the Britons, and the Germans fcarce 
 emerging from this ftate of barbarifm. His 
 commentaries every where mew them to have 
 been foreft-people ; retreating before him into 
 their faftnefles, and impeding his march by 
 felling timber in his way. The Britons, he 
 exprefsly tells us*, gave the name of a town 
 
 * Oppidum Britanui vocant, quum fylvas tmpeditas vallo, 
 atque fofla municrunt. De Bell. Gal. Lib. v. 
 
 to
 
 to a part of a foreft, which they had fortified 
 with a rampart, and a ditch. 
 
 But Caefar faw the Britifli town only in 
 time of war. Strabo gives us a picture of 
 one in time of peace. " Forefts, fays he, 
 were the only towns in ufe among them, 
 which were formed by cutting down a large 
 circle of wood; and erecting huts within it, 
 and fheds for cattle."* The fame author, 
 afterwards defcribing a town of this kind, 
 mews more exactly the mode of fortifying 
 it. It was the practice, he tells us, to inter- 
 mix, and weave together, the branches of 
 thorny trees, and ftrengthen them with flakes. 
 
 As the arts of civilization increafed, man 
 began to feel, that the foreft could not afford 
 him the conveniences he wifhed. Wants 
 multiplied upon him; which he could not 
 indulge amidft it's recefles. He chofe open 
 fituations for tillage the neighbourhood of 
 rivers for mills, and manufactures and de- 
 fcended to the fea-coaft for commerce, which 
 he extended to the moft diftant parts. 
 
 * Lib. vii. p. 292, edit. Cafaub. 
 
 Thu>
 
 ( 2 88 ) 
 
 Thus genial intercourfe, and mutual aid 
 Cheered what were elfe an univerfal made ; 
 Called nature from her ivy-mantled den, 
 And foftened human rock-work into men. 
 
 When man became thus refined, we leave 
 him. When he relinquimed the foreft, we 
 have no farther connection with him. His 
 haunts, and habits are no longer the objedt of 
 conjecture. They become the fubjecl: of re- 
 corded hiftory. To the fage hiftorian therefore 
 we now conlign him ; and return to the foreft, 
 which at this day in moft parts of the world, 
 where any forefts remain, is left in pofleflion 
 of the brute creation. 
 
 Under the burning funs of Lybia, in the 
 forefts of Zara, and Bildulgerid, the lordly 
 lion reigns. He harbours too in the woods 
 of India? but there he is an ignoble brute, 
 compared with the lion of Africa. The 
 African lion is a beaft of unrivalled prowefs. 
 Nothing appalls him. From his dark re- 
 cedes in the foreft, he fometimes eyes the 
 numerous caravan; men, horfes, and camels, 
 marching in flow cavalcade along the burning 
 fands of Barca. He lames his tail ; collects 
 his ftrength; and bounding forward, tho (in- 
 
 gle,
 
 gle, attacks the whole. He is received by a 
 brigade of pointed fpears -, and foon overpowered : 
 but in the bravery of his foul, he dies without 
 a wifh to retreat. 
 
 In the forefts of Mallabar, and Bengal, 
 the tyger roams. Of this animal there are 
 various kinds -, the largeft and fierceft is called 
 the royal-tyger. Of all the favages of the 
 foreft, he is the moft active, the moft in- 
 fidious, and the moft cruel. 
 
 The forefts of India are inhabited alfo by 
 the gentle and inoffenfive elephant. This 
 animal commonly marches in focial bands. 
 The traveller hears them at a diftance, as 
 they traverfe the foreft ; marking their rout, 
 by the crufh, and defolation of thickets, and 
 intervening woods. He liftens without dif- 
 may; and even waits to be a fpeclator of 
 the unweildy procefiion, as it moves along. 
 
 Bat euntibus ingens 
 Sylva locum; et magno cedunt virgulta fragore. 
 
 VOL. i. U The
 
 The monkey inhabits the woods both of 
 Africa, and India; and, what is fingular, 
 where he choofes to take pofleflion, he may 
 be called the lord of the foreft. The lion 
 himfelf gives way ; not being able to bear, 
 as travellers report, the incefTant tricking of 
 that mifchievous brute ; whofe agility prevents 
 correction. But the human figure is of all 
 others, the object of his higheft derifion. If 
 fuch a phenomenon appear in his domains, 
 the whole fociety are called together by a 
 whoop. From curiolity they proceed to in- 
 folence; chattering, grinning, and throwing 
 down fruit, cones, withered flicks, or any 
 thing their iituation furnimes. Fire-arms can 
 
 fcarce reprefs them. In fome forefts where 
 
 the ape, the baboon, and other larger fpecies 
 of this difgufting tribe inhabit, the traveller 
 muft be well guarded to pafs in fecurity. 
 
 In fouth-America, in the wide forefts of 
 Brazil, and Paraguay, along the banks of 
 the Amazon, the cougar, a ipecies of tyger, 
 is the moft formidable animal. Poflefled of 
 
 amphibious
 
 ( 29' ) 
 
 amphibious nature, he plunges into the river, 
 and carries his devaftations beyond that mighty 
 ftream. BufFon relates, that he has been 
 known to crofs the fea, in large companies, 
 between the continent, and the ifland of 
 Cayenne ; and, in the infancy of that colony, 
 to have kept it in conftant alarms. 
 
 In north-America the moofe-deer feems 
 intitled to the appellation of lord of the foreft -, 
 an animal reprefented by many travellers, as 
 high as an elephant, and of a nature as gentle. 
 With ftately tread he traverfes the vaft woods 
 of fir -, and crops the cones, and pine-tops 
 beyond the reach of any other animal. When 
 the foreft is covered with fnow, and crufted 
 over with froft, he is marked by the wild 
 American for certain deftru&ion. His feet fink 
 deep in the faithlefs furface ; and his flight 
 is impeded : while his purfuers, mounted on 
 fnow-(hoes, attack and retreat at pleafure ; 
 aflailing him with fliot, or arrows, on every 
 fide : and when he falls, half a townfhip is 
 employed to drag him to their habitations ; 
 where the noble carcafe is received in triumph, 
 and at once fufpends the effefts of famine. If 
 U 2 food
 
 food be plentiful, he is hunted for his fkin. 
 But tho his nature is gentle, like many other 
 animals, he will turn upon his purfuer, if he 
 be wounded. He fights with his fore-feet. 
 We have a ftory well authenticated of a hunter, 
 on whom a wounded moofe-deer turned. He 
 was found in the woods pounded into a jelly : his 
 very bones were broken in pieces ; and the 
 deer, -having exhaufted his fury, was found 
 lying dead befide him. 
 
 The woods of Germany nouriih the wild 
 boar, a beaft by no means among the ignobleft 
 of the foreft. His form, the mape of his 
 head, his fhort erect ears, his tufks, his thick 
 mufcular moulders, adorned with briftles, and 
 the lightnefs of his hind quarters, fo contrary 
 to the domeftic-hog, which is a round lump, 
 are all highly picture fque. Such allb are his 
 colour, a grifly brown ; and his coat, covered 
 in many parts, as well as his fhoulders, with 
 long, fweeping briftles. Nor are his gait, 
 attitude, and motion, inferior to his form. 
 This beaft, during the three firft years of 
 his life, herds with the litter, among which 
 he was produced. He is then called by 
 
 forefters
 
 ( 293 ) 
 
 forefters a beaft of company. In his fourth 
 year he aflumes the title of a wild boar 
 ranges the foreft alone becomes royal game 
 and at this day furnimes amufement for half the 
 princes of the empire. 
 
 From the forefts of the Pyrennees, when 
 winter rages, the famimed wolves rum down 
 in troops. All the country is in arms ; and 
 the utmoft vigilance and force, of men and 
 dogs, can fcarce reprefs fuch a torrent of 
 invafion, 
 
 In the gloomy forefts of Lapland, where 
 the pine is covered with black mofs, the hardy 
 rein-deer browzes. If he defcend into the 
 plain, his food differs only in hue. With 
 thefe two kinds of mofs, the black, and the 
 white, the whole face of Lapland is difco- 
 loured ; and when the diminutive native of the 
 country fees the waftes around him, abound 
 with this femi-vegetable, he blefles his ftars, 
 and calls it luxury. His rein-deer, fupported 
 by this cheerlefs pafturage, fupplies him with 
 every thing that nature wants. It gives him 
 U 3 food
 
 ( 2 94 ) 
 
 food it gives him milk it gives him cloath- 
 ing and carries him wrapped in fur, and 
 feated in his fledge, with amazing velocity 
 from one defert to another. 
 
 Thus moil of the forefts of the earth became 
 the poffeffion of the brute creation. In the 
 foreft of Sumatra, we are told, that wild- 
 beafts at this very day, depopulate whole 
 villages*. In other favage countries, man and 
 beaft are ftill joint-tenants -, yet in general, 
 even the barbarian is taught by example to 
 leave the foreft for a more convenient abode. 
 
 See Marfden's hift. of Sumatra. 
 
 SECT.
 
 SECT. XII. 
 
 UT tho man had deferted the foreft as 
 a dwelling, and had left it to be in- 
 habited by beafts ; it foon appeared, that he 
 had no intention of giving up his right of 
 dominion over it. In a courfe of ages, as 
 population increafed, he began to find it in 
 his way. In one part, it occupied grounds 
 fit for his plough ; in another, for the pafturage 
 of his domeflic cattle; and in fome parts, it 
 afforded melter for his enemies. He foon 
 (hewed the beafls, they were only tenants at 
 will. He began amain to lay about him with 
 his axe. The foreft groaned ; and receded 
 from it's ancient bounds. It is amazing, 
 what ravages he made in his original habi- 
 tation, through every quarter of the globe. 
 The fable was realized : man begged of the 
 foreft a handle to his hatchet; and when he 
 U 4 had
 
 ( 296 ) 
 
 had obtained the boon, he ufed it in felling 
 the whole. 
 
 In very early days this devaftation began. 
 When Jofhua divided the land of promife 
 among the Ifraelites, the children of Jofeph 
 made complaint, that their lot was infufficient 
 for their numbers : " Get thee up to the 
 wood-country, faid Jofhua, and cut down 
 for thyfelf there, in the land of the Perizzites : 
 the mountain mall be thine ; for it is a wood ; 
 and thou malt cut it down ; and the out-goings 
 of it fhall be thine*." 
 
 The cedars of Lebanon, which once found 
 employment for eighty thoufand hewers-f-, are 
 now dwindled to a dozen trees. The woods, 
 which covered the ifland of Delos, had intirely 
 difappeared even in the time of Herodotus. 
 In Cyprus you look for the traces of it's forefts 
 in vain. In all the new peopled parts of 
 America, it was the fole employment of 
 each colony to cut down wood; and it is 
 aftonifhing what devaftation the woods of 
 thofe countries have fuffered during thefe two 
 laft centuries. In the Weft-Indies the fame 
 
 Jofti. xvii. ijj. f i Kings v. i. 
 
 havoc
 
 havoc was made. In Barbadoes, which was 
 once covered with wood, fcarce a fmgle tree 
 can be found. All the other Weft-India 
 iflands, are, more or lefs, in the fame con- 
 dition. To prepare the ground for fugar- 
 canes, the axe has continued to rage in 
 them, ever fmce the time of their dif- 
 covery. 
 
 In the Eaft-Indies, we fee the fame fcenes 
 of defolation. Wherever fettlements have been 
 made, the woods have been cut down ; and 
 indeed often unnecefiarily. In the ifland of 
 Sumatra, Mr. Marfden tells us*, the inhabi- 
 tants have no fettled land for their tillage ; 
 but cut down, every year, a part of the ancient 
 forefts of the country ; and meliorate the foil 
 by the afhes of the trees, which they burn 
 upon it. " I could never, fays he, behold 
 this devaluation without a ftrong fentiment of 
 regret. Perhaps the prejudices of a clafTical 
 education taught me to refpect thofe aged trees, 
 as the habitations of an order of fylvan deities, 
 who were now deprived of exiftence. But 
 without having recourfe to fuperftition, it is 
 not difficult to account for fuch feelings, at the 
 
 * See Marfdcn's hift. Sumatra. 
 
 fight
 
 ( 298 ) 
 
 iight of a venerable wood, old as the foil it 
 flood on; and beautiful, beyond what the 
 pencil can defcribe, annihilated for the mere 
 temporary ufe of the fpace it occupied*." 
 
 In part the devaftation of timber has been 
 owing, in fome countries, to other caufes. 
 Among thefe, it is well known, what pro- 
 digious quantities of drift-timber are, every 
 year, wrecked on the fea-coaft of Greenland, 
 Iceland, Siberia, Kamfkatka, and other north- 
 ern regions, brought down, as is fuppofed, by 
 the great rivers of Tartary, and America ; and 
 thrown by the fetting of the currents on thofe 
 mores. In a voyage related by Purchas, we 
 are told, that the Obi, and the Jenifca fre- 
 quently, when the frofts break, and the fnows 
 difiblve, overflow their banks, and carry down 
 with them vafl mountains of ice, which rolling 
 along, through the forefts of the country, 
 crufh down all the trees they meet ; and 
 will fometimes drive whole woods before them 
 in their paffage to the fea-f. A tracl: of country, 
 
 See Marfden's hift. of Sumatra. 
 Second part, b. iii. ch. 7. 
 
 ravaged
 
 299 ) 
 
 ravaged thus by an inundation, is beautifully 
 defcribed by our great poet, 
 
 pufhed by the horned flood, 
 
 Of all it's verdure fpoiled, and trees adrift, 
 Down the great river to the opening gulph. 
 
 On the coafts of Spain, and Portugal alfo, 
 drift-timber is frequently found. At the fiege 
 of Gibraltar, on the night of the 26th of 
 december 1779 (fays captain Drinkwater, in 
 his hiftory of that fiege) " we had a moft 
 violent rain, with dreadful thunder, and 
 lightening. The fucceeding morning a vaft 
 quantity of wood was floating under our walls. 
 The rain had warned it from the banks of the 
 Palmone, and Guardaranque ; and it was wafted 
 by the wind over to our fide of the bay. Fuel 
 had long been a fcarce article : this fupply was 
 therefore considered as a miraculous inftance 
 
 of providence in our favour." In the Eaft- 
 
 Indies we have accounts of the devaftation of 
 timber from the fame caufe ; and likewife in 
 the ftreights of Magellan. -This caufe how- 
 ever operates only on the banks of large rivers, 
 
 or near the coafts of the fea*. 
 
 Tho 
 
 * See Crantz's hiftory of Greenland, v. i. p. 37. Evelin's 
 travels through Siberia, v. ii. p. 415. Millar's colleaion of 
 
 Ruffian
 
 ( 3 ) 
 
 But tho in all countries woods have been 
 difmantled, yet this devaftation of timber hath 
 raged with the greateft ardour in Europe. 
 France is almoft intirely deprived of valuable 
 woods. All timber of fuch a fize belonged to 
 the king. At leaft he might have exercifed the 
 right of pre-emption. The confequence was, 
 nobody would fuffer trees to attain that lize. 
 In the internal parts of Spain, and Germany, 
 fome woody tracts ftill remain ; but the gran- 
 deur of thofe ancient forefts, which Han- 
 nibal, and Caefar traverfed, is no where to be 
 found. Where mail we now hear of a foreft, 
 that took a period of iixty days to pafs through 
 it * ? But if fome woody fcenery is ftill found 
 in the internal parts of thefe countries, yet 
 along the coafts, from the Baltic to the Rhine, 
 and from the Rhine to the ftreights of Gibraltar, 
 all is laid wafte. 
 
 In Italy too the fame havoc has been made. 
 In Calabria indeed are ftill fome tracts of 
 wood; but, I believe, in few other parts. 
 
 Ruffian tranfaft. viii. 67. Drinkvvater's fiege of Gibraltar, 
 page 80. Byron's voyage, p. 37. 
 
 * Hercynia fyiva dierum fexaginta her occupans. 
 
 Pompon. Mela, 1. iii. c. 3. 
 
 Thofe
 
 Thofe vaft pine-forefts, which had rooted 
 themfelves, from the beginning of time, on 
 the ridges of the Appennines, are now in moft 
 parts of that chain of mountains, recorded only 
 by a few fcattered clumps. 
 
 Even the bleak clime of Iceland is fuppofed 
 to have been once covered with large forefts ; 
 tho it is now almoft totally bare of wood. It 
 is probable however that other caufes, befides 
 that of making room for tillage, of which 
 there is but little in that ifland, have contri- 
 buted to this event*. 
 
 From thefe varied fcenes of devaftation, the 
 Turkim dominions, I believe, are the moft 
 exempted. The Turks venerate trees ; and 
 cherim them in all places, where the foil is not 
 abfolutely required. They may almoft be faid 
 to live under them; for they are continually 
 reclining beneath their made. In Turkey it 
 is common to fee inferior buildings raifed 
 around the bole of a large plantain ; which 
 rifing through the roof, covers the whole with 
 it's expanded boughs. We may fuppofe there- 
 
 * See Troll's letters on Iceland, p. 41, kc. 
 
 fore,
 
 fore, what we fometimes hear, is true, that 
 ibme of the moft pidurefque fcenery in the 
 world may be found among the iflands of the 
 Egean j and along the mores of the Darda- 
 nells ; many of which, are beautifully covered 
 with wood. Thefe woods account pro- 
 bably for an appearance, which is fingular to 
 a ftranger navigating thofe narrow feas. As 
 the corn-vefTels fail through them, in their 
 way to Conftantinople, innumerable flights of 
 pigeons, which find melter in thefe woody 
 recefTes, hover round the boats, demanding a 
 fort of toll from each, which the Turks never 
 fail to pay them. Thefe domeftic birds acquire 
 the fagacity to diftinguifh the corn- boat from 
 every other fpecies of navigation -, and fettling 
 upon it's deck, they eat their dole at perfect 
 cafe. As the veffel approaches Conftantinople, 
 the tame pigeons of the capital, and all it's 
 fuburbs, fcruple not, if they choofe it, to take 
 the fame liberty. Doves of every kind are fa- 
 cred in Turkey. 
 
 SECT.
 
 SECT. XIIL 
 
 BRITAIN, like other countries, abounded 
 once in wood. When Caflibalan, Ca- 
 radtacus, and Boadicia, defended their country's 
 rights, the country itielf was a fortrefs. An 
 exteniive plain was then as uncommon, as a 
 foreft is now. Fitz-Stephen, a monk of 
 Canterbury, in the time of Henry II, tells 
 us, that a large foreft lay round London ; 
 " in which were woody groves j in the covers 
 whereof lurked bucks and does, wild boars, 
 and bulls." To flicker beafts of the latter 
 kind we know a foreft muft be of fome 
 magnificence. Thefe woods, contiguous even 
 to the capital, continued clofe and thick 
 many ages afterwards. Even fo late as Henry 
 VII's time we are informed by Polidore Virgil, 
 that, " Tertia propemodum Anglia? pars pecori, 
 aut cervis, damis, capreolis (nam et ii quoquc 
 
 in
 
 ( 304 ) 
 
 in ea parte funt, quas ad feptentrionem eft) 
 cuniculifve nutriendis relicta eft inculta : quippe 
 pamm funt ejufmodi ferarum vivaria, feu ro- 
 boraria, quas lignis roboreis funt claufa : unde 
 multa venatio, qua fe nobiles cum primis 
 exercent." 
 
 In this paflage the foreft feems to be dif- 
 tinguimed from the park ; which latter was 
 fenced, in thofe days, with oak pales, as it 
 is now. 
 
 As Britain became more cultivated, it's 
 woods of courfe receded. They gave way, 
 as in other places, to the plough, to paf- 
 turage, to mip-building, to architecture ; and 
 different objects of human induftry, in which 
 timber is the principal material', obtaining 
 for that reafon, among the Romans, the 
 pointed appellation of materies. 
 
 That our woods were often cut down, 
 merely for the fake of tillage, and pafturage, 
 without any refpect to the ufes of timber, 
 feems to be evident from the great quantities 
 of fubterraneous trees, dug up in various 
 parts of England. They are chiefly found 
 in marmy grounds ; which abounded indeed 
 
 every
 
 ( 305 ) 
 
 every where, before the arts of draining were 
 in ufe. Nothing was neceflary in fuch places, 
 to produce the future phenomenon of fub- 
 terraneous timber; but to carry tfce trees 
 upon the furface of the bog -, which might 
 eafily be done in dry fummers. Their own 
 weight, the ouzing of the fprings, and the 
 fwelling of the mofly ground would foon 
 fink them ; as they were generally flopped 
 of their branches, which were probably burnt. 
 Dr. Plot, who had examined fubterraneous 
 timber with great exactnefs, gives good rea- 
 fons for fuppofing, it might have been bu- 
 ried in this way merely to make way for 
 the plough; and imagines that the Englifh 
 might begin to clear their wood-lands for tillage 
 
 as early as the times of Alfred the great*. 
 
 Others account for the phenomenon of fub- 
 terraneous timber from the havoc made in 
 woods by the violence of florins. In marfhy 
 grounds efpecially, where trees take but 
 feeble hold, they would be mofl liable to this 
 deflru&ion. Both this hypothefis, and Dr. 
 Plot's may be equally true. 
 
 * Sec Plot's hift. of Oxfordfhire, chap. 6. fetf. 56. 
 VOL. I. X But
 
 But notwithftanding this general extermi- 
 nation of timber for the purpofes of human 
 induftry, ftill many forefts were left, in the 
 time of. our anceftors, in every part of the 
 ifland, under the denomination of royal chaces ; 
 which our ancient kings preferved facred for 
 
 their amufement. Forefts indeed have ever 
 
 been in ufe, in all parts, and ages of the 
 world, as the appendages of royalty. We 
 read them thus appropriated, even in the 
 times of facred hiftory. When Nehemiah was 
 in captivity, in the court of Artaxerxes -, and 
 had obtained leave of that prince to rebuild 
 Jerufalem, Artaxerxes granted him, we read, 
 among other favours, a letter to Afaph the 
 keeper of the kings foreft, to fupply him with 
 timber*. 
 
 In England, the royal appropriation of 
 moft of our forefts, feems to have been at 
 leaft as early, as the times of the heptarchy. 
 Every petty prince had then his royal de- 
 meifns. Afterwards when one fovereign ob- 
 tained poffeffion of the whole ifland, he 
 found himfelf the proprietor of a number of 
 
 * See Nehemiah, ii. 8. 
 
 thefe
 
 ( 37 ) 
 
 thefe forefts fcattered over the different parts 
 of it. 
 
 In Scotland alfo feveral forefts exifted : 
 but whether they were in general the fovereign's 
 property ; or indeed any of them under the 
 jurifdiction of foreft law, might be matter of 
 inquiry. Some of them undoubtedly belonged 
 to private perfons ; but on the whole, the 
 forefts of Engknd were both more numerous 
 in proportion, and more appropriated to the 
 crown, than the forefts of Scotland. How 
 many of thefe diftricts exifted between the 
 foreft of Englewood in Cumberland, and 
 New-foreft in Hamplhire, may eafily be 
 fuppofed y when we are allured, that in the 
 laft named county alone there were an- 
 ciently at leaft a dozen; tho we can fcarce 
 at this time trace above haJf that number. 
 
 At prefent indeed even the veftiges of moft 
 of our Englilh forefts are obliterated. Of a 
 few of them we find the lite marked in old 
 maps ; but as to their fylvan honours, Icarcc 
 any of them hath the leaft remains to boaft. 
 Some of the woods were deftroyed in licen- 
 tious times : and many have been fuffered, 
 through mere negligence, to wafte away the 
 pillage of a dimoneft neighbourhood. 
 
 ' X 2 The
 
 The pidurefque eye, in the mean tifne, 
 is greatly hurt with the deftrudion of all 
 thefe fylvan fcenes. Not that it delights in 
 a continued foreft ; nor wifhes to have a whole 
 country covered with wood. It delights in 
 the intermixture of wood, and plain - y in which 
 beauty confifts. It is not it's bufmefs, to 
 consider matters of utility. It has nothing 
 to do with the affairs of the plough, and the 
 fpade ; but merely examines the face of nature 
 as a beautiful objed. At the fame time, it 
 is more than probable, that if at leaft fome 
 of our ancient forefts, in different parts of 
 the kingdom, had been preferved, the ends 
 of public utility might have been anfwered, 
 as well as thofe of pidurefque beauty. This 
 was at leaft the opinion of our enemies. We 
 are informed, that in the intended invafion 
 of 1588, the Spaniards, among other mifchief, 
 that was meditated, had orders to cut down 
 all the forefts of England, which they could 
 meet with ; particularly the foreft of Dean in 
 Glocefterfhire. John of Ghent indeed aded 
 this part in Scotland ; when to revenge an 
 inroad, he fet twenty-four thoufand axes at 
 work in the foreft of Caledonia. 
 
 Out
 
 ( 39 ) 
 
 Out of refpecl: however to the noble fcenes, 
 which the forefts of Britain once prefented, I 
 (hall endeavour to preferve the remembrance of 
 as many of them, as I can. I mall carry my 
 reader firfl into the northern parts of Scotland ; 
 and mall from thence proceed regularly through 
 all the forefts, of which we have any know- 
 ledge, to the fouthern parts of England. 
 
 X 3
 
 SECT. XIV. 
 
 character of the Scotch-foreft is very 
 different from that of the Englifli one. 
 It commonly extends over a mountainous 
 country, abounding with vallies, rocks, pre- 
 cipices, torrents, cataracts, lakes, and all the 
 accompaniments of the wildeft, and grandeft 
 fpecies of landfcape. It is chiefly compofed 
 of pines, which give it a melancholy, gloomy 
 afpecT:. In fome parts this gloomy tinge is 
 varied by birch ; and in other parts inlivened 
 by the cheerful green, and brilliant berries 
 of the mountain-am. The pine-fore fts often 
 climb precipices of very towering height ; 
 diminiming to the gazing eye, when Rationed 
 at the bottom, till the loftieft pines almoil 
 appear melting into air. 
 
 The woods, that rear themfelves over the 
 
 deeps of the Alps, and Appennines, often form 
 
 X 4 appearances
 
 appearances of this kind, but of a more cheer- 
 ful caft. The following defcription is a 
 beautiful contraft to the gloomy afpecl: of a 
 Scotch-foreft ; tho I fancy the poet has drawn 
 a more woody fpecies of fcenery, than is at 
 this time commonly to be found in Italy. 
 
 Far to the right, where Appennine afcends, 
 Bright as the fummer, Italy extends. 
 Woods over woods, in gay, theatric pride, 
 Wei] mafied, yet varied, deck the mountain's fide. 
 While towering oft, amidil the tufted green, 
 Some venerable ruin marks the fcene. 
 
 The animals which inhabit the Scotch- 
 foreft, are the roe- buck, the eagle, and the 
 falcon. Heretofore it was frequented by the 
 cock of the wood, a noble bird, drefled in 
 fplendid plumage, of nearly the lize of a 
 turkey. He was often feen, amidft the dark 
 foliage of the pine, rearing his glofly creft, 
 and crowing at intervals : but he is now 
 feldom found. The flag alfo fometimes 
 fhelters himfelf among the thickets of the 
 foreft : but it is the heat only of a meridian 
 fun, that drives him thither. The ftorm he 
 values not; but continues browzing in de- 
 fiance of it, on the fide of the bleakeft 
 
 mountain,
 
 3'3 
 
 mountain, on which it happens to overtake 
 him. 
 
 The Englifh foreft, (except in the northern 
 counties, which border on Scotland) exhibits 
 a very different fpecies of landfcape. It is 
 commonly compofed of woodland views in- 
 terfperfed, as we have defcribed them*, with 
 extenfive heaths, and lawns. It's trees are 
 oak, and beech ; whofe lively green corref- 
 ponds better than the gloomy pine, with the 
 nature of the fcene, which feldom affumes 
 the dignity of a mountain one ; but generally 
 exhibits a cheerful landfcape. It afpires indeed 
 to grandeur ; but it's grandeur does not depend, 
 like that of the Scottifh foreft, on the fitblimity 
 of the objefts ; but on the vaftnefs of the whole 
 the extent of it's woods, and widenefs of it's 
 
 plains. In it's inhabitants alfo the Englifh 
 
 foreft differs from the Scotch. Inftead of the 
 flag, and the roe-buck, it is frequented by 
 cattle, and fallow-deer: and exchanges the 
 fcreams of the eagle and the falcon, for the 
 crowing of pheafants, and the melody of 
 nightingales. The Scotch-foreft, no doubt, 
 
 See p. 220. 
 
 is
 
 ( 3H ) 
 
 is the fublimer fcene ; and fpeaks to the ima- 
 gination in a loftier language, than the Englifh 
 foreft can reach. This latter indeed often 
 roufes the imagination, but feldom in fo great 
 a degree j being generally content with cap- 
 tivating the eye. 
 
 The fcenery too of the Scotch foreft is better 
 calculated to laft through ages, than that of 
 the Englifh. The woods of both are almoft 
 deftroyed : but while the Englifli- foreft hath 
 loft all it's beauty with it's oaks, and becomes 
 only a defolate wafte ; the rocks and the 
 mountains, the lakes, and the torrents of the 
 Scotch-foreft, make it ftill an interefting 
 fcene. 
 
 In Sutherland, which is the moft northern 
 county in Scotland, are found the forefts of 
 Derry-more, and Derry-monach. 
 
 In Rofsmire, in the diftricl of Affynt, lies 
 the foreft of Coygach : and along the confines 
 of Loch-mari, which is one of the moft ex- 
 tenfive lakes in Scotland, runs another foreft, 
 which bears the name of the lake. 
 
 In
 
 ( 3'S ) 
 
 In the county of Murray are the forefts of 
 Abernethy, and Rothimurcha; winding along 
 the banks of the Spey. They both belong 
 to the Grant-family ; and make a part of 
 the extenfi ve demeifns of caftle-Grant ; which 
 ftands in their neighbourhood. 
 
 In the fhire of Invernefs are the remains of 
 feveral forefts thofe of Loch-loyn, Glenmo- 
 rifton, Strath-glafs, Loch-garrie, Loch-artig, 
 and Kinloch-leven. 
 
 In the county of Bamff lies the foreft of 
 Glenmore, which belongs to the duke of 
 Gordon -, whofe caftle rifes among the woods 
 on the confines of it. 
 
 On the banks of the Dee, along the fouthern 
 part of the county of Aberdeen, runs the foreft 
 of Glentaner, which belongs to Lord Aboyne ; 
 and more to the weft, lie the forefts of Braemar, 
 and Invercald. 
 
 The
 
 The former is a very romantic fcene 5 efpecf- 
 ally in the eaftern parts. Here we find in 
 great perfection every fpecies of the wildeft, 
 and moft awful country. The beetling rock 
 aflumes no where a more tremendous form : 
 nor the pine, burfting from it's fillures, a 
 more majeftic ftation : nor does the river, 
 in any place, throw itfelf into more furious 
 contortions. This wild, and extenfive foreft 
 is much frequented by game of every kind; 
 which ufed formerly, in the fummer feafon, to 
 draw together a great refort of nobility and 
 gentry, from all parts of Scotland. Their 
 meeting had the appearance of a military 
 expedition. They wore a uniform : and in- 
 camped together in temporary huts. Their 
 days were fpent in the chace -, and their 
 evening in jollity. Such meetings were com- 
 mon in Scotland, ancj of great antiquity. A 
 hunting-party of this kind gave occafion to 
 the celebrated ballad of Chevy-chace. 
 
 The foreft of Invercald is likewife a very 
 romantic fcene. The pines, which at this 
 day, grow in fome parts of it, are thought 
 to be fuperior to any in Europe, both in 
 fize and quality. Many of them attain the 
 height of eighty, or ninety feet, and meafure 
 
 four
 
 four feet and a half in diameter. They are 
 fold, I have heard, on the fpot, often for five, 
 or fix guineas a tree. The timber, which they 
 yield, is refmous, heavy, and of a dark-red 
 colour. Confiderable quantities of it are ftill 
 carried into the lower parts of Scotland, in 
 floats down the Dee, when that river hap- 
 pens to be fwoln with rains. The forefts 
 of Braemar, and Invercald are fuppofed to 
 be the remains of the ancient Caledonian 
 wood. 
 
 In the county of Athol is the foreft of 
 Loch-rannoc; and in that of Argyl, the 
 foreft of Loch-tulla, where Mr. Pennant 
 tells us, he faw the laft pines, which he 
 fuppofed to be of fpontaneous growth in 
 Scotland. 
 
 In the county of Stirling lies the forefl 
 of that name ; or Torwood, as it is often 
 called. Here the country, tho ftill abrupt, 
 and rough, begins to afliime a milder form. 
 Here too the oak begins to mix it's cheerful 
 verdure with the dark green tint of the 
 
 pine.
 
 pine. As we approach the Englilh border, 
 
 it is probable the oak became ftill more 
 frequent ; and occupied large tracts of thofe 
 vaft woods, which on better evidence than 
 of ballad-hiftory, we believe exifted formerly 
 in the wilds of Tiviot, and Cheviot. 
 
 As we enter England, the large county of 
 Northumberland affords the remains only of 
 two forefts - y Rothbury in the middle of it ; 
 and Lowes on the weflern fide, a little to 
 the north of the Roman wall. 
 
 In Cumberland we find five, Nicol; Knare- 
 dale ; Weftwood ; Inglewood ; and Copeland -, 
 all now defolate, and naked fcenes -, except 
 where fome of the lands have been culti- 
 vated. 
 
 The wild county of Weftmorland confifted 
 formerly of little befides forefts ; with the 
 appendages of lakes and mountains. Six are 
 ftill traced in it. On the north, lies the 
 foreft of Milburn ; in which rifes one of the 
 
 loftieft
 
 loftieft mountains in England, that of Crois- 
 fell. On the weft, lie the forefts of Whin- 
 field, Martindale, and Thornthwait. Mar- 
 tindale is bounded by the beautiful lake of 
 Ullf- water ; and Thornthwait by that of 
 Broad- water. On the eaftern fide of this 
 rough county lie the forefts of Stainmore, 
 and Mellerftang. Stainmore is a wild fcene, 
 noted only for being one of the great weftern 
 pafles into Scotland. At the northern extremity 
 of it is prefented a grand piece of diftant 
 mountain fcenery. On the borders of Mel- 
 lerftang ftand the ruins of Pendragon-caftle ; 
 the walls of which are full four yards in 
 thicknefs. Pendragon-caftle gives Weftmor- 
 land perhaps a better title to that celebrated 
 hero, Uter Pendragon, than any the Welfh 
 can boaft. It ftands upon the river Eden; 
 and the tradition of the country is, that the 
 noble founder propofed to draw that great 
 ftream around it, like a trench. His enter- 
 prize mifcarrying gave rife to the following 
 adage, applied to the attempting of an im- 
 pofribility ; 
 
 Let Pendragon do what he can, 
 Eden runs, where Eden ran. 
 
 This
 
 ( 32 ) 
 
 This foreft was like wife celebrated for being 
 formerly the haunt of wild-boars ; and a part 
 of it, to this day, retains the name of Wild- 
 boar-fell. Here alfo ftands the mountain of 
 Mowil; from whence three of the largeft 
 rivers in the north of England take their 
 fource, the Eden, the Ewer, and the Swale. 
 
 In the bimoprick of Durham we find only 
 the foreft of Langden, or Teefdale, which 
 latter name it affumes from running along 
 the banks of the Tees. When the woods 
 of this foreft were in perfection, they muft 
 have afforded a great variety of very picturefque 
 fcenery. For the Tees is one of the moft 
 romantic rivers in England ; and forms many a 
 furious eddy, and many a foaming cafcade, in 
 it's pafTage through the foreft ; particularly that 
 celebrated cataract, which, by way of emi- 
 nence, is called the fall of the Tees. 
 
 In Lancafhire we find three forefts Lan- 
 cafter-foreft, which, I fuppofe, is the fame 
 
 as
 
 ( 3*' ) 
 
 as Wirefdale Bowland, a little to the fouth 
 and Simon's-wood, extending almoft to 
 Liverpool. 
 
 In the northern parts of Yorkfliire lie a cluf- 
 
 ter of fmall forefts Lime Applegarth 
 
 Swaledale and Wenfeley-dale. Whether each 
 of thefe had a feparate jurifdiftion, or whether 
 their rights were intermingled, would be dif- 
 ficult at this day to afcertain. They muft 
 formerly however, in their rude ftate, have 
 been delightful fcenes. Even now they con- 
 tain fome of the moft pi&urefque country we 
 have in England rivers vallies rocks and 
 woods in great profuiion, tho intermingled, 
 and deformed with patches of human indufhy. 
 
 On the Eaftern fide of Yorkfhire lies the 
 foreft of Pickering, extending itfelf almofl to 
 Scarborough. This foreft, with that of Wiref- 
 dale, were royalties belonging to the duchy 
 of Lancafter - y and in the time of John of 
 Ghent, the jurifdiction of foreft-law was 
 maintained in both of them with fo much 
 exa&nefs, that the determinations of the courts 
 of Lancafter, and Pickering were always 
 
 VOL. i. Y efteemed
 
 ( 3" ) 
 
 efteemed fufficient precedents for all the other 
 foreft courts in England*. 
 
 In the middle of Yorkfhire lies the wide 
 forefl of Knarefborough, once a very romantic 
 fcene ; now inclofed, and cultivated. A little 
 to the fouth lies Harewood ; and on the eaft, 
 Galtries, ftill a woody diftric~t, extending almoft 
 to the walls of York. 
 
 Around Hallifax lies Hardwicke-foreft, 
 within the precincts of which Hallifax-law, 
 as it was called, took place. It was a very 
 fevere jurifdiftion, veiled in the magiftrates 
 of the town, to punifh cloth-ftealing. The 
 offender within the fpace of two or three 
 market-days, was tried, condemned, and exe- 
 cuted. The inftrument of his execution was 
 called a maiden. It was a machine, in which 
 an axe was drawn up a confiderable height 
 between two pofts, and under the preflure of 
 a heavy, weight, fell rapidly on the criminal's 
 neck. The axe is ftill fhewn at Hallifax. 
 
 There were probably many other forefts in 
 Yorkfhire, but we can only trace with any 
 degree of certainty the fite of one more, which 
 is Hatfield-chace ; and this might likewife 
 
 * See Manwood on Foreft-Iaw, in varioxis parts. 
 
 have
 
 ( 323 ) 
 
 have been forgotten, had it not been for a 
 piece of hiftory belonging to it the death of 
 Edwin, king of Northumberland, which hap- 
 pened in this foreft, together with the 
 deftruction of his army, by Penda, the pagan 
 king of Mercia. 
 
 In Chemire we have the forefts of Delamere, 
 and Macclesfield. The former is an extenfive 
 diftrict of ground, rifing, as it approaches 
 Chefter, and prefenting, at the extremity, a 
 grand view of the flat country below, bounded 
 by the mountains of Wales. The caftle of 
 Beefton, feated on a hill, in the fecond dif- 
 tance, appears to great advantage in the view. 
 In this foreft, Edelfleda, a Mercian princefs, 
 founded a little town for her retirement, 
 which obtained the title of the happy city. 
 The lite is ftill known by the name of the 
 chamber in the foreft. 
 
 Befides thefe two forefts in Chemire there 
 was formerly another of larger dimenlions, 
 than either of them. It occupied, under the 
 name of Wireall-foreft, that whole peninfula, 
 which lies between the eftuaries of the Mercey 
 and the Dee. 
 
 Y 2 In
 
 ( 3 2 4 ) 
 
 In the county of Nottingham is the cele- 
 brated foreft of Sherwood, which was formerly 
 the frequent fcene of royal amufement. 
 Mansfield, a town in that foreft, was the 
 feat of the king's refidence on thofe occalions 5 
 and it was here that he made an acquaintance 
 
 with the miller of famous memory. This 
 
 foreft was alfo the retreat of another perfonage 
 equally celebrated in the chronicle of ballad, 
 the illuftrious Robin Hood, who with little 
 John, and the reft of his afTociates, making 
 the woody fcenes of it his afylum, laid the 
 whole country under contribution. Sherwood- 
 foreft is, at prefent, a fcene of great defolation ; 
 tho it's woods in various parts are reviving 
 under the aufpices of feveral eminent patrons*, 
 whofe eftates either lie within it, or on it's 
 confines. 
 
 In Shropmire are the veftiges of at leaft four 
 forefts ; Huckftow ; King's-wood > Bridge- 
 
 * The dukes of Norfolk, Kingfton, Newcaftle, and Port- 
 land ; fir George Saville ; fir Charles Sedley ; and others, have 
 made large plantations in feveral parts. 
 
 north ;
 
 ( 3*5 ) 
 
 north -, and Clune. Clune-foreft deferves ever 
 to be remembered in Britifh annals as the 
 fcene where Caradtacus is fuppofed * to have 
 made his laft noble {land againft the Romans. 
 Having refifted them nine years with various 
 fuccefs, and being now pufhed to extremity, 
 he fortified himfelf on a hill in this foreft. 
 Tacitus tells the ftory at length-)-. Oftorius 
 led his legions againft him. The Britifh camp 
 was forced ; and through treachery the gallant 
 chief was delivered to his conqueror. At 
 Rome, fays the hiftorian, the fenate confidered 
 the triumph over Caraftacus, as fplendid as 
 thofe over Syphax, and Perfes. 
 
 Needwood-foreft, in the county of Stafford, 
 is a track of elevated country, about twenty- 
 five miles in circumference. In confequence 
 of it's elevation, it commands around it's ex- 
 tremities a great variety of diflant views. 
 
 To the north they are terminated by thofe 
 lofty hills, which form the romantic fcenes 
 of Dovedale. But to the eaft, the country 
 
 * See Camden on Shropfhire. 
 
 f See Tac. annal. lib. xii. cap. 33. 
 
 Y 3 fubfiding
 
 fubfiding into a vaft flat, ftretches far and wide 
 into diftance. On a promontory overlooking 
 this extenfive plain, ftands Tutbury-caftle, 
 once the maniion.of the dukes of Lancafter. 
 As you wind round from the eaftern to the 
 fouthern extremity, the views, tho remotely 
 bounded by hills, continue flat, and diftant. 
 The great object on this fide is Litchfield- 
 cathedral, which rifing in the middle of the 
 plain, is every where feen to great advantage. 
 
 With regard to the internal parts of the 
 foreft, we find it's grandeft effect of woody 
 fcenery along it's northern boundary, where 
 a bold range of woods ftretch for feveral miles 
 together, in one vaft irregular fweep. And 
 what often adds fingular beauty to this part, 
 the fteep cliff, which bounds it, often defcends 
 fuddenly, in deep, and narrow wooded vallies, 
 
 to the level of the country below. There 
 
 is fomething of the fame effect of fcenery alfo 
 
 on the fouth-weft part of the foreft. As we 
 
 pafs more into the internal parts, we find much 
 variety of ground, and fcenes of great beauty 
 from the number, and different forms of the 
 lawns, and the varied outline of the woods, 
 which incompafs them. Many of the trees 
 indeed are of the under-rate kinds, as maples, 
 
 hazels,
 
 hazels, and thorns ; but they produce beautiful 
 thicket-fcenery j and there are frequent oaks 
 mixed with them. But above all, this foreft 
 glories in it's holly-woods. The hollies are 
 commonly of the fize of trees, and add beauty 
 to it at all times, but in winter give it peculiar 
 cheerfulnefs. 
 
 To thefe fources of beauty it may be added, 
 that the foil of Needwood-foreft is generally 
 good - y which produces great richnefs in it's ve- 
 getation, and vigour in it's woods. 
 
 The middle parts of Staffordfhire are oc- 
 cupied by a very extenlive foreft known by 
 the name of Cank-wood. 
 
 In the fouthern parts of Leicefterfhire lies 
 the wide foreft of Charnwood; in which the 
 park of Beaumanour, twenty miles in cir- 
 cumference, was walled round by the lords 
 of Beaumont y and was thought to be one of 
 the largeft works of the kind in England. 
 In this county alfo lies the foreft of Leicefter ; 
 on the borders of which is the celebrated 
 field of Bofworth, where after fo much blood- 
 fhed in the conteft between the two houfcs 
 Y 4 of
 
 ( 3*8 ) 
 
 of York and Lancafter, their quarrel was 
 finally decided. 
 
 In Rutlandfhire is the foreft of Lyfield, 
 ftill in fome parts in it's original ftate, and 
 ftocked with deer : and in Hertfordshire are 
 the remains of the forefts of Bring- wood, 
 Deerfield, Hawood, and Acornbury. 
 
 Wire-foreft, once famous for it's {lately 
 timber, lies on the north-weft of Worcefter- 
 mire, along the banks of the Severn. In 
 this county alfo we have the foreft of Mal- 
 vern, and Feckingham : the former winds 
 among the hills, whofe name it bears ; and the 
 latter is famous for it's fait fprings, in the 
 boiling of which it's woods have been almoft 
 exterminated. 
 
 More than half the county of Warwick 
 was formerly a continued foreft-fcene, and was 
 known by the name of Arden ; an old Britifh 
 word, which iignifies a wood. Whether this 
 vaft diftricl: of wood-land was divided into 
 
 different
 
 ( 329 ) 
 
 different juifdiftions, would be difficult to 
 afcertain. There feems at leaft to have been 
 one feparate chace in it, which belonged 
 to the caftle of Kenelworth : and it is probable, 
 there might have been others. 
 
 In the county of Northampton is the large 
 foreft of Rockingham; which ftretches along 
 the river Welland almoft to Stamford. In 
 this foreft ftands the caftle of Rockingham, 
 formerly a pile of vaft importance, built by 
 William the Conqueror. In Northamptonshire 
 alfo there are three other forefts -, Sacy, Yardly, 
 
 and Whittlebury. 1 have been allured, that 
 
 in the firft, and laft of thefe forefts, Rock- 
 ingham, and Whittlebury, there remains, at 
 this day, fufficient timber to build the navy 
 of England twice over j and as canals are 
 now forming in thofe parts, it may foon be 
 an eafy matter to convey it from it's deep 
 recefles to any of the king's yards. Thefe 
 forefts alfo, particularly Whittlebury, are in- 
 fefted by the wild-cat; which the naturalifts 
 call the Britiih tyger. 
 
 Hun-
 
 ( 33 ) 
 
 Huntingdon takes it's name, as etymologifts 
 fiippofe, from being a country adapted to 
 hunting*. We may imagine therefore, that 
 in elder times, when fuch beafts were hunted, 
 as required large covers, a great part of the 
 county was foreft. At prefent, tho we have 
 the veftiges of feveral woods, we meet with 
 no foreft directly named, but that of Wa- 
 bridge. 
 
 In Glocefterfhire, the foreft of Dean has 
 ever been efteemed one of the moft celebrated 
 forefts in England. It is of large extent, 
 not lefs than twenty miles in length -, and 
 half as many in breadth ; ftretching, on 
 the fouth-eaft, along the Severn ; and on the 
 north- weft along the Wye -, the picturefque 
 fcenes of which latter river it greatly improves 
 by often prefenting it's woody diftances. The 
 timber in this foreft was formerly more in 
 requeft, than any other timber, for the fervice 
 
 * See Camden's Huntingdon fhire. 
 
 Of
 
 ( 33' ) 
 
 N 
 
 of the navy. But it is, at this time, much 
 diminished; owing chiefly to the neighbour- 
 hood of feveral iron forges, which it has long 
 fupplied with fuel. There is however ftill 
 more the appearance of a foreft preferved 
 here, both in the fcenery, and in the jurif- 
 diction, than in almoft any other part of 
 England. The courts are held in a large 
 houfe, which was built for this purpofe in 
 
 the middle of the foreft. In the county 
 
 of Gloucefter alfo is the foreft of Micklewood; 
 on the confines of which ftands Berkly-caftle 
 
 of celebrated antiquity. King's-wood too 
 
 is another foreft in this county, which being 
 bounded by the Avon, fpreads itfelf almoft 
 to the walls of Briftol. 
 
 In Oxfordshire we have only the fingle 
 foreft of Whichwood. 
 
 In Buckinghamshire, we have thofe of 
 Bernwood, and Clitern. Bernwood runs along 
 the hilly country from Aylefbury almoft to 
 Oxford. Clitern was formerly a very thick 
 impervious wood, and noted for being the 
 
 haunt
 
 ( 332 ) 
 
 haunt of banditti, who long infefted the 
 country ; till a public -fpirited abbot of St. 
 Alban's broke their confederacy, by bringing 
 many of them to juftice, and deftroying their 
 retreats. 
 
 In Effex are the two forefts of Epping, 
 and Hainhault ; the latter of which, it is 
 probable, was once an appendage to the 
 former. For Epping-foreft was anciently a 
 very extenfive diftricl: ; and, under the name 
 of the foreft of EfTex, included a great part 
 of that county. It afterwards took the name 
 of Waltham-foreft ; but Epping being a 
 place better known, it now commonly takes 
 that denomination. 
 
 Wiltfhire alfo was formerly a very woody 
 county ; and once probably almoft the whole 
 of it was a foreft. Even at this day we find 
 in it the veftiges of four forefts. Peeviiham, 
 Blakemore, Bradon, and Savernack. Bradon 
 was a fcene of dreadful bloodmed in the year 
 905 ', when the Danes under Ethelred, in- 
 vaded it : and flaughtered all the inhabitants 
 
 of
 
 ( 333 ) 
 
 of it's environs, among whom were a number 
 of women and children, who had fled for 
 
 refuge to it's recefles. Savernack-foreft is 
 
 ftill a woody fcene, and adorns a part of the 
 road between Bath and London. It belongs 
 to the earl of Aylefbury ; and is almoft the 
 only privileged foreft in England in the hands 
 of a fubjecl:, by whom in ftrid: language, a 
 chace only is tenable. This foreft is about 
 twelve miles in circuit; and is ftill well 
 ftocked with deer, and timber. 
 
 In Berkfhire is the celebrated foreft of 
 Windfor. It was formerly the property of 
 queen Emma ; and was afterwards diftinguifhed 
 by William the conquerer, who built lodges 
 in it, and eftablifhcd foreft-law. He himfelf 
 ufed commonly, after the chafe, to fleep at an 
 abbey in the neighbourhood. There is now 
 little fcenery left in any part of it. Some of 
 the fineft of the old foreft-trees, ftill remain- 
 ing, ftand on the left of the road leading from 
 the great park to Cranburn-lodge. The fce- 
 nery here, chiefly from the ornament of the 
 
 trees, is beautiful. The moft pleafing part 
 
 of Windfor-foreft, is the great park; which, 
 
 tho
 
 ( 334 ) 
 
 tho in many places artificially, and formally, 
 planted, contains great variety of ground. 
 The improvements of the duke of Cumberland, 
 were magnificent, rather than in a ftile fuitable 
 to a foreft. All formalities mould have been, 
 as much as poffible, avoided ; and the whole 
 formed into noble lawns and woods, with 
 views introduced, where they could be, into 
 the country. The great avenue to Windfor- 
 caftle, tho in a ftile of great formality, is 
 however in it's kind fo noble a piece of fcenery, 
 
 that we mould not wifh to fee it deftroyed. 
 
 Befides great numbers of red, and fallow-deer, 
 this park was in the duke's time, much fre- 
 quented by wild turkies > the breed of which 
 he encouraged. It could hardly have had a 
 more beautiful decoration. Birds are among 
 the moft picturefque objects : both their forms, 
 and plumage make them fo ; yet they are ge- 
 nerally fo diminutive, that, beautiful as they are, 
 they have little effect. But the turkey is both 
 a large bird; and being gregarious, forms 
 groups, which become objects of confequence. 
 It's fhape alfo is picturefque j and all it's 
 actions. It's colour alfo, efpecially if it be 
 of the bright copper, varying in the fun-beam, 
 is more beautiful, than the plumage of any 
 
 other
 
 ( 335 ) 
 
 other bird. The peacock neither in form nor 
 in colour, is equal to the turkey. As this 
 bird was reclaimed from the unbounded woods 
 of America, where it is ftill indigenous, it's 
 habits continue wilder, than thofe of any 
 domeftic fowl. It ftrays widely for it's food 
 it flies well, conlidering it's apparent inactivity 
 and it perches, and roofts on trees. On all 
 thefe accounts it is a proper inhabitant of 
 parks. Windfor-foreft is faid to be about thirty 
 miles round: but if Bagfhot is an appendage 
 to it, I mould fuppofe it much more. The 
 great park is about fourteen miles round; 
 and the little park three. 
 
 In Middlefex is the foreft of Enfield. After 
 the death of Charles I, it is faid, that Cromwell 
 divided it into farms among his veterans : but 
 if they ever took pofTefllon, they were difpof- 
 fefled at the reftoration ; and deer, it's ancient 
 inhabitants, were again fettled in their room. 
 It is now inclofed under an aft of parliament. 
 
 Surry and Kent were formerly very woody 
 counties; of which we need no evidence, 
 
 befides
 
 ( 336 ) 
 
 befides that of Caefar, when he invaded Bri- 
 tain. There are no traces however of any 
 nominal foreft in either of them, except the 
 foreft of Tunbridge. Woods indeed there are 
 in various parts; and much more the appear- 
 ance of a woody country is ftill left, than in 
 moft of thofe countries, in which forefts are 
 known to have exifted. 
 
 Suflex, on the other hand, which has ever 
 been remarkable as one of the fmeft timber 
 counties in England, abounds at the fame 
 time with nominal forefts. It contains no 
 fewer than feven j St. Leonard's ; Word -, 
 Afhdown ; Waterdown -, Dallington ; Arun- 
 del; and Charlton; which laft foreft was 
 fettled on the dukes of Richmond. Ridings 
 through it have lately been cut - t and many 
 new plantations added. 
 
 In Cornwall it does not appear that there 
 has ever been any thing like a foreft. 
 
 In
 
 ( 337 ) 
 
 In Devonlhire there are two ; the foreft of 
 Dartmore, which runs along the mountainous, 
 and barren country, on both fides of the river 
 Dart, before it enters the fouth Hams : and 
 the foreft of Exmore, which accompanies the 
 river Ex, till it enter the more fertile country 
 about Dulverton. 
 
 In Somerfetmire there are likewife two, 
 Neroch-foreft, which lies a little to the fouth 
 of Taunton -, and Selwood-foreft, a little to 
 
 the fouth of Froom. Thefe fcenes will 
 
 ever be famous in Britifh hiftory ; while the 
 remembrance continues of Alfred the great. 
 Frequent inundations of Danes, and repeated 
 lofles had driven him from the management 
 of affairs. But he retired before the enemies 
 of his country, only to attack them with more 
 advantage. Seeing the time ripe for action, 
 he emerged from his retreat ; fent his emif- 
 faries around, and called his friends together 
 in the foreft of Selwood, which flickered, and 
 concealed his numbers. Here arranging his 
 followers, he burft from the foreft, like a 
 torrent, upon the Danes. They gave way at 
 
 VOL. i. Z once;
 
 once ; and fuffered fo terrible a defeat, that 
 they never again molefted his repofe. 
 
 On the north of Dorfetfhire lies Gilling- 
 ham-foreft, remarkable alfo for a great defeat, 
 which Edmond Ironfide gave the Danes, on 
 the confines of it. A little to the eaft lies 
 Cranburn-chace ; and on the weft, Black- 
 more -foreft, commonly called the foreft of 
 White-hart ; from a celebrated ftag, which 
 
 afforded great diverfion to Henry III. The 
 
 whole of the ifland of Purbeck was once a 
 foreft. In the midft of it ftands Corf-caftle; 
 where Elfrida, to open the throne for her fon 
 Ethelred, murdered her fon-in-law Edward ; 
 when he called for refremment at her caftle 
 after a toijfome chace. 
 
 In Hampmire are the veftiges of five forefts. 
 On the north near Sylchefter lies Chute-foreft ; 
 through which pafles the great fouthern 
 Roman road, ftill vifible in many parts. On 
 the weft lies the foreft of Hare wood, which 
 is ftill a woody fcene, tho it's larger trees are 
 
 in
 
 ( 339 ) 
 
 in general gone. This place was formerly 
 celebrated for the unfortunate loves of Athel- 
 wold, and Elfrida. Here Edgar flew his 
 rival; and the place is traditionally marked 
 by the name of Dead-man's plot. The abbey 
 of Whorwell, which Elfrida founded, as fome 
 fuppofe, on this occafion, and as others, more 
 probably, as an atonement for the murder of 
 Edward, cannot now be traced, except by a 
 monumental ftone, which marks it's fituation. 
 On the eaft of Hampfhire, lies Holt-foreft ; 
 more to the fouth, the foreft of Waltham, 
 which belongs to the Bifhop of Winchefter ; 
 and near Tichfield, the forefts of Bere. Some 
 parts of thefe forefts ftill afford remains of 
 woody fcenery. 
 
 At the fouth-weft extremity of Hampmire 
 lies New-foreft; which, as it hath given 
 occafion to thefe remarks, and is befides the 
 nobleft fcene of the kind in England, I mall 
 in the following book, confider more at large ; 
 and endeavour to illuftrate by it's fcenes, fome 
 of the obfervations, which have already been 
 made*. 
 
 * To this account of the forefts of England, I (hall onlj 
 fubjoin, that Mr. St. John (fee his obfervations on the land- 
 revenues
 
 ( 340 ) 
 
 revenues of the crown, p. 118) enumerates feventy-feven; 
 of which Windfor, Waltham, Dean, Rockingham, Whittle- 
 wood, Salcey, Sherwood, Which-wood, New-foreft, Bere, 
 and Walmer, are the only forefts, he fays, which are reputed 
 to have preferved their rights. Of the reft indeed he gives 
 the names, many of which I meet with no where, but in his 
 catalogue. He fays however that feveral of them, were dif- 
 forefted; and changed into private property, by an aft of 
 Charles I. which was wrefled from him, in confequence of 
 his having revived the vexations of foreft-law, at the beginning 
 of his difficulties. 
 
 END OF THE SECOND BOOK, 
 
 .OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 OF 
 
 QUOTATIONS in the Firft Volume. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Page 2 8. 
 
 Deep in the bowels of the earth, the oak 
 With hardy effort drives his vigorous root; 
 And rears his head as high. No winter-ftorm 
 Can touch a trunk fo founded. Years revolve; 
 The puny generations of mankind, 
 Each after each, expire ; yet firm he ftands ; 
 And ftretching, far and wide, his fmewy army, 
 With comprehenfive fpan, and fvveep of (hade, 
 O'erfpreads a diftrift. 
 
 35. The a(h is the moft beautiful of all the trees 
 
 of the wood. 
 47. As the letters of our names increafe on the 
 
 bark, fo {hall our love. 
 47. Under the fhelter of a fpreading beech. 
 50. The light metal crackled in the wind. 
 60. The maple ftained with various hues. 
 
 * 119.
 
 Page 
 
 No greater beauty can adorn 
 
 The hamlet, than a grove of ancient oak. 
 
 Ah ! how unlike their fires of elder times 
 The fons of Gallia now ! They in each tree 
 Dreading fome unknown power, dared not to lift 
 An axe: tho fcant of foil, they rather fought 
 For diftant herbage, than moleft their groves. 
 
 Now all is fpoil, and violence. Where now 
 Exifls an oak, whofe venerable ftem 
 Has feen three centuries? unlefs forne fleep, 
 To human footftep inacceffible, 
 Defend a favoured plant. Now if fome fire 
 Leave to his heir a foreft-fcene: that heir 
 With gracelefs hands hews down each awful trunk, 
 Worthy of Druid reverence ; there he rears 
 A paltry copfe, deftined, each twentieth year, 
 To blaze inglorious on the hearth. Hence woods, 
 Which flickered once the flag, and grifly boar 
 Scarce to the timorous hare fure refuge lend. 
 Farewell each rural virtue with the love 
 Of rural fcenes. Sage Contemplation wings 
 Her flight. No more from burning funs Ihe feeks 
 A cool retreat. No more the poet fings, 
 Amid re-echoing groves, his moral lay. 
 
 133. My guide {hewed me here, what I can call 
 only the (hell, or bark of a chefnut-tree, but 
 of fuch amazing circumference, that one of 
 the fhepherds of the country ufed it as a fold 
 for a large flock of fheep. 
 
 215. Even the very gods inhabited groves. 
 
 215. The grove ufed as a temple. 
 
 217,
 
 217. 
 
 He (hewed 
 
 A grove, which Romulus, in after-times, 
 
 Made an afylum. Near it rofe a rock, 
 
 Bedewed with weeping fprings, facred to Pan ; 
 
 And once more facred to the injured fhade 
 
 Of murdered Argos. Then he called aloud 
 
 The gods to witnefs, that his foul abhorred 
 
 The impious deed. To the Tarpeian rock 
 
 He led the hero next, where now in pomp 
 
 The capitol upheaves it's fplendid towers; 
 
 Then but a thicket, interwoven clofe, 
 
 With nature's wildeft produces. Yet e'en then 
 
 A fuperftitious awe, and holy fear 
 
 O'erfpread the fcene. Doubtlefs fome god, (what god 
 
 We know not) holds his facred refidence 
 
 Upon the wooded creft of yon dark grove. 
 
 Oft when the ftorm, with brooding darknefe, o'er 
 
 That wood arifes, the Arcadians fee, 
 
 Or think they fee, the mighty Jove himfelf 
 
 Rolling his thunder; and with bare right arm 
 
 Flaming his lightnings on a guilty land. 
 
 282. 
 
 Thefe woods the fawns, and nymphs once held, 
 Here too a hardy race of men fubfift. 
 Unverfed in all the arts of life, they know 
 Nor how to yoke the ox, nor turn the glebe ; 
 Content with the bare produce of the woods, 
 And what the chace affords. 
 
 303. Almoft the third part of England is uncul- 
 tivated, and poflefled only by flags, deer, or 
 wild-goats ; which laft arc found chiefly in 
 the northern parts. Rabbits too abound every 
 
 where.
 
 [ iv ] 
 
 where. You every where meet with vaft 
 forefts, where thefe wild-beafts range at large ; 
 or with parks fecured by pales. Hunting is 
 the principal amufement of all the people of 
 diftin&ion.
 
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