ON THE CHARACTERISTICS OF TREES. 259 



out, the green leaves and the blue sky all that is seen — the wavino^ 

 branch and the plashy streamlet (across which some mossy trunk 

 has fallen ) all that is heard ! 



The deep recess of dusky groves 



Of forest, where the deer securely roves, 



The fall of waters and the song of birds, 



And hills that echo to the distant herds, 



Are luxuries excelling all the glare 



The world can boast, and her chief favourites share." 



An arboretum formed without any attention to the features of 

 woodland scenery in a state of nature, is but an heterogeneous 

 collection of individuals, pining for their native associates, pro- 

 ductive perhaps of wonder to the ignorant stranger, but altogether 

 wanting in that local aspect so pleasing to the naturalist. Among 

 rocks and lakes the pine genus are peculiarly appropriate; they 

 convey the ideas of savageness and solitude, and gloomy silence 

 seems enshrined within their limits. The aspect of a fir forest 

 in Norway is thus described by a pleasing writer :* — "Those who 

 have never been in any other than woods of small extent, and 

 adjacent perhaps to the abodes of men, have no conception of 

 the silence and solitude which pervade the greater forests. The 

 former are full of little birds, in whose very aspect there is glad- 

 ness, and in whose chirpings and clear notes there is no touch of 

 melancholy, and being associated too with gardens and lawns, 

 and with our very parlour windows, mirthful rather than gloomy 

 images are awakened by their presence: — but no images like 

 these, nor any such associations, belong to the forests of the 

 north. Tliere no little birds hop from spray to spray — no gay 

 melody is in the air — the rustling among the bushes does not 

 denote the presence of the tuneful thrush, but of some wild and 

 solitary animal with which man has no associations. An eagle 

 or a heron rising from a dell, or soaring above a lake, augment 

 rather than detract from the feeling of solitude, because they are 

 birds of solitude, and never visit the habitations of men." The 

 fir, then, is more appropriate to the wilderness than the garden, 

 where too often it grows in a mean stunted way, incommoding 

 its neighbours. But the magnificent cedar, stretching over a vast 

 circumference with its huge arms, seems exactly appropriate to 

 the vicinity of palaces, and combines well with the towers and 

 turrets that rise in architectural display around it. Hence the 

 images imprinted on the mind, and when we view the massive 

 architecture of the east associated with the cedar, we involuntarily 

 recur to Babylon or Nineveh in its ancient grandeur, as the 

 palm directs us to Palmyra or the pyramids. 



From the cursory remarks I have made as to the striking dis- 

 tinctions in the characteristics of trees, even in the limited Flora 

 of our own country, it may be easily comprehended that in the 



* Inglis's Journey through Norway. 



