the alder in perfection,’ remarks Mr. Gilpin, 
“must follow the banks of the Mole in Surrey, 
through the winding and dehghtful vales of 
Dorking and Mickleham, into the groves of 
Esher. The Mole, indeed, is far from being a 
beautiful river ; itisasilent and sluggish stream ; 
but what beauty it has, it owes greatly to the 
alder, which everywhere fringes its meadows, and 
in many places forms very pleasing scenes, espe- 
cially in the vale between Box-hill and the high 
grounds of Norbury-Park.”—“ In very many in- 
stances,” says Mr. Gilpin’s commentator, Sir 
Thomas Dick Lauder, “ we have seen the alder 
put on so much of the bold resolute character of 
the oak, that it might have been mistaken for 
that tree, except for the intense depth of its 
green colour. The Mole may doubtless furnish 
the traveller with very beautiful specimens of 
| the alder, as it may also furnish a specimen of 
| quiet English scenery ; but we venture to assert, 
_ that nowhere will the tree be found in greater 
perfection than on the wild banks of the river 
Findhorn and its tributary streams, where scen- 
ery of the most romantic character everywhere 
_ prevails.” 
The alder has suffered a very unwarrant- 
_ able degree of disrepute, not only as an orna- 
| mental plant, but as a coppice-shrub and a 
timber tree. In some of the oak coppices,of 
the Scottish Highlands, it is considered a nui- 
sance, occupying more space than it is worth, 
and is relentlessly exterminated to make room 
for oak and ash. In some other places and situ- 
ations, in which it has established itself with- 
out help from man, it is treated as a very un- 
welcome intruder; and in numberless situations 
where it might be planted, either with profit 
from itself or with important advantage to 
grounds or to other trees, it is utterly neglected. 
Yet it grows freely in a great variety of soils, 
from the marshy and boggy to the dry, the sandy, 
and the elevated; it is far from being fastidious 
as to position or troublesome in cultivation; it 
readily accommodates itself to a variety of cir- 
cumstances as a plant, and fitly serves a variety 
of purposes as timber ; and, when all its qualities 
and adaptations are fairly considered, it is far 
worthier of attention than some trees which pos- 
Sess pretty general favour. In many low damp 
situations, it makes the best live fence which can 
be reared; for there it grows freely and with 
vigour, while thorn or almost any other hedge 
plant would be. feeble and stunted, or would 
sicken and die. In maritime situations, as on 
swampy grounds along a low sea-board, it thrives 
well, and forms an excellent screen. On the 
|| sandy, loose, frangible banks of streams, it excels 
'| every other plant for binding the ground into a 
strong natural embankment, and for converting 
an unsightly and perishable stretch of channel 
into an ornamental and permanent line of water- 
course ; for it sends numerous and ramified series 
of roots along the edges of streams in search of 
oe 
ALDER. 
107 
food,—and, by their multiplicity, their length, 
and their intricacy, it interlaces and binds the 
soil into a well-woven and compact mass. In 
wet sour lands which are unfit for any other 
timber, and cannot be profitably reclaimed, it 
might be profitably grown for even the most 
common purposes of brushwood. In very ex- 
posed situations, in consequence of its very rapid 
growth, and of its great power of resisting storms, 
it might be very advantageously raised for the 
nursing and sheltering of more valuable trees. 
Along the margins of swamps, or athwart the 
face of any blotched and disagreeable section of 
landscape, if it were planted in groups, and al- 
lowed sufficient room to assume a tree-like char- 
acter, and permitted to grow to maturity without 
the application of the knife or the hatchet, it 
might completely hide the unseemliness of the’ 
ground, and convert a moor or a morass into a 
pleasant-looking object, and at the same time 
grow up with a fair remunerative reference to 
its ultimate availableness as timber. Yet the 
aquatic habits of the alder deprive light soil of | 
all moisture, and render it exhausted and barren ; 
its roots render almost any soil more moist, 
spouty, and rotten-looking than before they oc- 
cupied it; and its suckers and seedlings exert a 
mischievous and almost poisoning influence upon 
herbage. The alder, therefore, ought not to be 
grown in any pasture field, upon any good land, 
or in any other situation in which dryness of | 
soil and healthiness of grass are considerations of 
importance. 
The economical uses of alder, in its foliage, its 
bark, and its timber, were at one time of more 
moment than at present, yet are still both nus | 
merous and valuable. Its trunks were formerly 
in prime and universal request for water-pipes, 
drains, pump-trees, and conduits to reservoirs; | 
but have been almost wholly superseded by pipes 
of lead, tin, and iron. Its timber is well-suited | 
for subaqueous piles, and for most descriptions of | 
subaqueous woodwork, “ where it will harden like | 
a very stone,” says an old writer; yet may now be 
regarded as superseded for even these purposes | 
by the kyanized wood of more close-grained trees, 
A cross section of the timber shows the large pri- 
mary rays of the duramen, thinly arranged, yet 
in nearly regular order,—the secondary rays slen- 
der, numerous, and interrupted,—the cells of the 
concentric rays nearly regular,—and the spaces 
between the rays crowded with cells. The tim- 
ber, therefore, ought to be well-suited for the 
cogs of wheels and other parts of wooden ma- 
chinery, for the wooden heels and soles of shoes, — 
and for various descriptions of turnery; and it | 
has, at times, been used in considerable quantity | 
for each of these purposes. Charcoal made of its | 
timber has long been highly valued for the man- | 
ufacture of gunpowder. Its largest roots and 
the knotty parts of its stem are often beautifully 
veined, and form a good material for cabinets. 
The bark and the young shoots yield a yellow 
