younger children with portions after his decease. But, in spite of the reclamations of his gardener, who is feed by the nurserymen, he must begin with the seed-bed: he is otherwise not the natural father of his future family. Transplantation next succeeds, which from every principle of present economy, as well as future advantage, ought to be early. Then follows a long progressive work of thinning, pruning, and lopping, all which demand a skilful, and, if possible, a master's hand.

Erasmus was laughed at by the elder Scaliger for having conceived (and, perhaps, he was the first modern who conceived) the idea that plants were afflicted with a certain degree of sensation. This imagination, which seems to have received some countenance of late, must, for the sake of his feelings, be discarded by the planter; otherwise, in every act of necessary discipline upon his plants he will appear to be performing a surgical operation on his children: for the knife, the chissel and the saw must all be used in succession, though with more or less reserve, according to the following analogies.

Glandiferous trees, of which the seeds are few and bulky, have also few and perpendicular roots, with broad deciduous leaves, and are apt to extravagate into a waste of vegetation in their side branches. To compensate for this native defect, all these are patient of the knife. On the contrary, the whole pine tribe, of which the seeds are diminutive as those of herbaceous plants, have roots numerous in proportion, more capable therefore of transplantation; but because they have little hold on the ground, they are filled, instead of leaves, with a kind of spines, on which the winds have little effect. These never waste themselves in side branches, and to them, therefore, excepting with respect to dead branches, the knife, not being necessary, is injurious. In all cases, early planting is highly expedient, adeo in teneris consuescere multum

est.'

To animate still farther the youthful planter by the prospect of no remote nor chimerical profit from his labours, a single poplar of eighteen years growth has been sold for four pounds; and a single acre planted, according to the circumstances of the soil, with that valuable aquatic, or the equally valuable larch, will, in favourable situations, and in no longer a period than twenty years, yield a produce worth ten times the fee simple of the land. Very different are these views of the subject from those of our great but gloomy moralist, who reminds the Scottish planters, for their consolation, that there is a frightful interval between the seed and the timber. He that calculates (he continues) the growth of trees has the unwelcome remembrance of the shortness of life D 3 driven

driven hard upon him. He knows that he is doing what will never benefit himself, and when he rejoices to see the stem rise, is disposed to repine that another shall cut it down.'* Dr. Johnson

was not a father, and what if that other' should be a beloved son?

With respect to the oak, indeed, hope must for the most part be the planter's reward; and were Quarles himself to seek for an emblem of the highest disinterestedness, or the grossest folly, he might light upon a man of fourscore dropping the acorns of this ornament and strength of future centuries. Yet we have seen men short of threescore years and ten reposing under the shade of oaks sown by themselves, which had attained to seven feet in circumference. From the seed-bed therefore to the perfection of some, and to the hopeful and rapid increase of others among his old contemporary trees' are the probable limits of the planter's life. But in the multiplied and delightful occupations of this long period, he will find that a tincture of other knowledge than experience alone can confer, is necessary to accomplish him in his own department. He will be assailed in the outset by temptations from interested persons to a wasteful prófusion of plants. He ought, therefore, to be acquainted with the mensuration of surfaces, lest he should ignorantly be led to conceive that the difference in the number of his seedlings between planting at the distances of three, four, or five feet, is merely as those numbers. He should also, for similar purposes of economy, be acquainted with the geometrical relations between areas and their different outlines.

At a more advanced period of his progress, when the peculiar appetite of old age begins to operate in shortsighted temptations to immediate gain, he should acquaint himself with the mensuration of solids, and should be able to counteract the plea of interest upon interest, by actual admeasurements and practical demonstrations from year to year, that his woods, if spared, are uniformly increasing in a ratio which far outstrips the operations of indolent and sedentary avarice. To fortify himself in this species of abstinence, he will study the history and progress of woods, as detailed in this volume, with a wide compass of inquiry and information; and that he may not be discouraged by the comparatively trifling emoluments which are there represented as having accrued to the planter or his posterity after a lapse of many years, and from woods of considerable extent, he will do well to remember that the price of oak has nearly quadrupled within the last thirty years; and that by adding a cypher to estimates relating to the time of Charles the First,

* Journey to the Western Islands, p. 325.

he

he will do no more than raise them to the standard of his own times.

On the subject of taste, which, by a peculiar felicity, is in this single instance capable of harmonizing with views of profit, we have yet said little. Evelyn had a true feeling of picturesque beauty; but, living before the laws of landscape were known, except to painters, he admired justly, though without rules. Let the reader turn to the incomparable chapter in this work on the sacredness and use of standing groves,' where he will find, that in order to feel and describe the combinations of nature in these her most majestic works, it is not indispensable to talk, in the cant of a profession, of keeping and of tints, of foregrounds, offskips, and distance. Evelyn's painting resembles the forest scene in As You Like It,' or the more rugged features of Milton's Garden of Eden,' wild above rule or art.' But to the undisciplined taste of picturesque beauty, there is added to this chapter such an accumulation of learning, sacred and profane; such a devout and holy feeling excited by the solemnity of ancient woods; such an harmless and elegant superstition on this his favourite subject, as exalt the planter to the much higher characters of critic, poet and saint. In short, the spirit of this chapter, and almost of the whole work, is that of his retired and tuneful friend Cowley, or of a later bard, who imitating, without knowing it, the sentiment and expression of Columella, exclaimed

'God made the country and man made the town.'

In short, nothing can furnish a better antidote to the dry, scientific, didactic clearness with which physiological subjects are treated at present, or even to the formal and mechanical rules by which we are taught to avoid formality and mechanism in gardening, than this most feeling, desultory and enchanting work.

The truth is, that at a time when ornamental gardening was no better than architecture in trees and shrubs, there were always men of genius found to soar above that wretched taste; and now, when artificial landscape had attained to its highest point of perfection by copying nature, when the earth-painter', as he has been not unhappily named, had begun to emulate Claud and Salvator in nature's own materials, a set of trading mannerists have arisen, who, without taste or discrimination to consult the genius of places, if they succeed at all, succeed in producing a monotonous uniformity of beauty which will tire their employers and mankind. This, from the mere 'fuga' of sameness, will in no long time be succeeded by some monstrous and fantastic taste, which in its turn, and in some happier day, will once more give place to the supremacy of truth and nature.

The superlative merits of the writer, and the enchantment of the subject itself have left us little space, and less inclination to bestow much time on the editor or the present impression. To Dr. Hunter, however, considerable credit is due for the scientific arrangement of trees and shrubs which he has added, in their respective places, to the text, for the valuable hints which he has every where scattered on the modern improvements in sowing and planting, and above all, for the admirable portrait of his author by Bartolozzi, which, under the lean and fallen features of age, exhibits all the intelligence and fire of youth. In the last edition, such is the state of the engravings, (perhaps unavoidably,) that the possessors of the earlier impressions may felicitate themselves on their good fortune.

6

On the subject of physiology, and the internal organization of plants, something has been added by Dr. Hunter, perhaps as much as was then understood though the observations of Malpighi and Grew, at a much earlier period, were excellent. Many things, however,' says the editor, yet remain to be discovered,' (p. 418,) and, in the last four years, experiment and observation appear to have completed the work.

On comparing Mr. Evelyn's unarranged enumeration of trees and shrubs cultivated among us in his time, with the few and unimportant additions to the catalogue of trees cultivated in England, which appear in the scientific arrangement of his editor, adapted to the close of the last century, it is impossible not to remark, that during a period of activity and improvement in every other department unequalled in any former age, the British sylva, as far as relates to the introduction of new species, appears to have been nearly at a stand. The cold regions of New England, of Russia and Norway, had, indeed, already added to the remains of our indigenous pine forests many varieties of that valuable tribe; while our immense acquirements on the torrid plains of Hindostan afforded no acquisitions but for the hothouse: the present reign, however, has opened a new southern continent, resembling in climate that of Constantinople, and abounding with varieties of trees and shrubs which would unquestionably bear the ordinary. severities of an English winter. The southern shores of the Euxine had long before been explored by Clusius and Tournefort, and the fruit of their researches, and of some other early botanists, was not only the horse chesnut, at once a forest tree of the first magnitude, and a flowering shrub of the greatest beauty, but the laurel, and many other shrubs, unlike that great ornament of our winter walks, of the finest scent.

The climate of the great southern continent, at least that of our settlements upon it, we have already said, is nearly the same with

that

that of Pontus. Thither we annually export whole cargoes of vice and guilt, and thence, to purify our own air, we might import innumerable varieties of vegetable beauty; but, to the disgrace of an elegant and scientific age, the door is shut. The vigilance of our doganeri is equally directed to the detection of imports properly contraband, and to articles of no intrinsic value, but objects sometimes of pure curiosity and sometimes of great national utility. Restrictions so unprofitable, and so little in the contemplation of a liberal government, but connived at in the conduct of men habitually coarse and violent, are worthy only of a despotic sovereignty or of a barbarous age.

ART. V. A Journey through Persia, Armenia, and Asia Minor, to Constantinople, in 1808 and 1809; in which is included some Account of the Proceedings of his Majesty's Mission under Sir Harford Jones to the Court of the King of Persia. By James Morier, Esq.-Secretary, &c. London. 1812. A Geographical Memoir of the Persian Empire, accompanied by a Map. By John Macdonald Kinneir, political Assistant to Brigadier General Sir J. Malcolm, in his Mission to the Court of Persia. London. 1813.

THAT the Persian empire flourished in all the arts and luxuries

of the east, when the western world gave shelter, in its woods and wilds, to a few hordes of savages, the most ancient and authentic records, both sacred and profane, afford unequivocal testimony; every where the Scriptures display a distinct and intimate knowledge of the local and political concerns of this empire; and the father of profane history details, with the exactness of local information, the principal transactions by which its sovereigns were distinguished.

By what particular tribe of people Persia was originally inhabited must remain a matter of conjecture; that they were of the Scythian or Tartar race is more than probable, as the Parsees or Guebres, undoubtedly the most ancient and the least mixed of the Persians, have few if any of the lineaments of the Hindoo countenance, whilst the remarkable Tartar eye and olive complexion are universally discoverable among this tribe. The modern Persians, however, can hardly be said to possess any peculiar national character; the original traits having been defaced by the various revolutions of the government, the frequent change of masters, and the introduction of new systems of morals and religion.

Without ascending higher than the third century of the Chris