in the verdure which has been well styled "her universal robe," but also with trees in every stage of their existence; an idea which Milton has also given us in his exquisite description of the creation :

"Last

Rose, as in dance, the stately trees, and spread
Their branches, hung with copious fruit, or gemm'd

With blossoms; with high woods the hills were crown'd,

With tufts the valleys, and each fountain side;

With borders long the rivers: that earth now

Seem'd like to Heav'n, a seat where gods might dwell,
Or wander with delight, and love to haunt
Her sacred shades."

Leaving, however, for the present, the dryads and hamadryads of such enchanting precincts to the poets who have so well embodied their existence, we shall turn our attention to "the stately trees," and endeavour to ascertain, and to point out, to such of our readers as may be desirous to acquire some knowledge of their varieties and character, with reference to their appearance and effect in landscape, the most striking peculiarities in each species, and the mode best adapted for their delineation. In the course of this disquisition, we shall have occasion to present to the young student in painting, a variety of sketches illustrative of our propositions, given, not from the recorded treasures of the brain, but from a more inexhaustible storehouse; being acquired by diligent study in the living academies of nature, -the groves and the forests of our native country. And here it may be well observed, that no set of rules or examples, drawn from other men's labours, will be sufficient to form an original landscape painter: we can only put the proper implements into the hands of the student, form in him a habit of accurate perception, and introduce him to the objects best adapted for his pencil: it is for him to find his own path for the future, and penetrate into the solitudes and the recesses of the forest, where every thing will be congenial to his pursuit, and where he will not have to complain in the elegant language of Quintilian, "Quare silvarum amoenitas, et præterlabentia flumina, et inspirantes ramis arborum auræ, volucrumque cantus et ipsa latè circumspiciendi libertas, ad se trahunt; ut mihi remittere potius voluptas ista videatur cogitationem, quam intendere.” “Wherefore the sweet tranquillity of the woods, the liquid lapse of murmuring streams,' the soft whisperings of the summer air amid the boughs, the melodies of birds, and the unrestrained freedom that the eye enjoys, all attract the mind to themselves, so that these delights appear to me rather to interrupt than to promote our meditations."

European trees may, by the painter, be divided into four classes: the round-topped, as the oak, chestnut, elm, willow, ash, beech, &c.; the spiry-topped, as the different species of the fir tribe; the shaggy-topped, comprehending those of the pine; and the slender-formed, as the Lombardy poplar and the cypress. In the first of these classes, foremost in dignity and grandeur, the oak stands pre-eminent, and like the lion among beasts, is the undoubted lord of the forest. Beauty, united with strength, characterises all its parts. The leaves, elegant in their outline, are strongly ribbed, and firmly attached to the spray, which, although slim and excursive, is yet bold and determined in its angles, whilst the abrupt and tortuous irregularity of its massive branches, admirably contrasts with the general richness and density of its clustered foliage. Even as a sapling, in its slender gracefulness, it exhibits sufficient firmness and indications of vigour, to predicate the future monarch of the wood; a state, indeed, which it is slow to assume, but

which it retains per sæcula longa; and when, at length, it is brought to acknowledge the influence of time, and becomes "bald with dry antiquity," no other production of the forest can be admitted as its rival in

14

majestic and venerable decay. The general form of the oak is expansive, luxuriant, and spreading. Its character, both with respect to its whole, and to its larger masses of foliage, is best expressed by the pencil in bold and roundish lines, whether as single trees (fig. 13.), as groups (fig. 14.), or as forming the line of a distant forest (figs. 15, 16.): although

when growing more closely together, they assume a loftier and less spreading appearance than the more solitary tree, such as Mason has so beautifully described in his Caractacus,"Behold yon oak,

How stern he frowns, and, with his broad brown arms,
Chills the pale plain beneath him."

The sketches (figs. 14, 15, 16.), to which we have just alluded, will more distinctly exemplify our position, exhibiting, in the distinct distances, the same general appearance in the contour of the trees.

But whilst, as an entire object, these curved lines are sufficient to express the general peculiarity of its outline, as well as the larger masses of its foliage, when we come to examine the oak more closely, and in detail, we find that a greater variety of line must be adopted to display its singular proportions, so indicative of energy and boldness. The trunk and limbs (fig. 17.) are characterised by their amazing strength,

and by their comparative shortness and crookedness; and the branches by their numerous contortions and abrupt angles, and by the great variety which they exhibit of straight and of

crooked lines, and by their frequent tendency to a horizontal direction: these striking peculiarities are exemplified in the accompanying sketch. (fig. 17.)

Not unfrequently, however, the forms of the limbs and branches are entirely concealed by the exuberancy of foliage, as is the case in the Bounds-Park oak, and more particularly in that magnificent living canopy,-nulli penetrabilis astro, impervious to the day,- (fully described in the Sylva Britannica), the Chandos oak at Southgate, which, although not exactly a painter's tree, is unquestionably unrivalled for regular beauty and plenitude of shade. The oak, also, is occasionally found to present an extremely graceful and pleasing figure, as is remarkably the case with the celebrated oak at Lord Cowper's, of which we have given a drawing. (fig. 13.) This tree, above a century ago, was well known as the great oak at Panshanger.

There is also a beautiful tree, represented in the last of these sketches (fig. 18.), of the same description, at Lord Darnley's seat at Cobham, which, being protected from the depredations of cattle, enjoys the most perfect freedom of growth, extending "its latitude of boughs" in every direction, and drooping its clustered foliage to the very ground.

4.3

PART II.

REVIEWS.

ART. I. Some Account of the Work now publishing by M. Audubon, entitled The Birds of America. By WILLIAM SWAINSON, Esq. F.R.S. F.L.S. &c.

Dear Sir,

I DREW up the enclosed notice of M. Audubon's publication, with the intention of sending it to you anonymously; but justice to its author, and a wish of assisting your infant Magazine, has since induced me to become the avowed writer. If, therefore, you desire it, you are at full liberty to use my name. This avowal may possibly have some weight with those, who may be tempted to think that praise has descended into flattery; and who are not aware that I have long aimed at that perfection, which M. Audubon has so fully attained.

Tittenhanger-Green.
April 11. 1828.

I am, dear sir,
Your faithful obedient servant,

W. SWAINSON.

IN nothing is the inconsistency of mankind more striking than in their treatment of genius. In every generation arises one or two spirits, who seem destined to attain a marked preeminence in what they undertake; and to contradict the axiom, that knowledge advances by slow and imperceptible steps. Absorbed in the accomplishment of their object, or devoted to their particular study, they become blind to all considerations of a mere worldly nature. The advantages of interest, the acquirement of wealth, even the comforts of social life, are by such men despised or set at nought, if opposed to the ruling passion of their minds. To attain this, they will struggle against difficulties, apparently insurmountable, against discouragements innumerable, and against poverty itself. Yet how do the world receive such spirits? Let the page of history answer. In every age, however enlightened, and in every kingdom, however great, innumerable are the melancholy examples of its coldness, ingratitude, or apathy. Historians, philosophers, poets, painters, naturalists-have