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Under the article of timber, the author gives an interesting account of the comparative demand for each kind; and we Thall extract, for various reasons, the conclufion.

• We do not deliver the foregoing sketch as a perfectly correct account of the application of woods in this country: the attempt is new, and that which is new is difficult. We have not omitted to consult with professional men upon the subject; and we believe it to be sufficiently accurate for the purpose of the planter. If we have committed any material error, we ask to be set right. We do not wish to descend to minutiæ: it would be of little figni, fication to the planter, to be told what toys and toothpicks are made from it : it is of much more importance to him to know, that, of English woods, the oak is most in demand, perhaps three to one, -perhaps in a much greater proportion; that the ash, the elm, the beech, and the box, follow next; and that the chesnut, the walnut, and the prunus and pinus tribes are principally valuable as substitutes for oak and foreign 'timber. It likewife may not be improper in this place to mention, that the oak, though of flower growth than the afh, the elm, the beech, the larch, the firs, and the aquatics, is nearly of twice the value of any of those woods at market; therefore, in a private and pecuniary point of view, the oak is the most eligible tree to be planted: in a public light, it rises above comparifon.'

His remarks on hedges we cannot, from the nature of the subject, either analyse or extract. Our author is very fond of the Norfolk husbandry in this branch, and his remarks are so judicious and intelligent, that we recommend them not only to the embellisher of the ferme ornée, but to the practical hufbandman.

On the subject of woodlands, the different kinds are distinctly treated, from plantations of the majestic oak, to the humble ozier-bed. Though we wish to affitt the public spirit of the author, in encouraging plantations, yet we must refer to his work for the particulars. His own arguments are too long for an extract; and we would not weaken his language by abridging them in our own. The following calculations are çurious, and we believe them to be just.

• From an extensive knowledge of the different parts of the kingdom, we belieye that the nation has not yet experienced any real wapt of timber. We are happy to find that in many parts of it there are great quantities now ftanding; whilst in many other parts we are sorry to see an almost total nakedness. With respect to large well-grown oak timber, such as is fit for the purposes of ship building, we believe there is a growing scarcity throughout the whole kingdom.

• We will explain ourselves, by speaking particularly as to one districts the vale of Derwent, in Yorkshire. This district


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for ages paft has fupplied in a great measure the ports of Whit. by and Scarborough with thip-timber. At present, notwithstanding the extensive tracts of woodlands till remaining, there is scarcely a tree left standing with a load of timber in it. Befides, the woods which now exist have principally been raised from the stools of timber-trees formerly taken down; the faplings from which being numerous, they have drawn each other up ílender, in the grove manner; and consequently never will be suitable to the more valuable purposes of the ship builder.

" When we consider the prodigious quantity of timber which is consumed in the construction of a large vessel, we feel a concern for the probable fitoation of this country at some future period. A seventy-four gun fhip, we speak from good authority, swallows up nearly, or full, three thousand loads of oak timber. A load of timber is fifty cubical feet; a ton, forty fect; consequently, a feventy-four gun fhip takes two thousand large well-grown timber-trees; namely, trees of nearly two tons each!

• The distance recommended by authors for planting trees in a wood, a subject we shall speak to particularly in the course of this chapter, in which underwood is also propagated, is thirty feet or upwards. Suppofing trees to stand at two rods (thirty-three feet, the distance we recommend they should stand at in such a plantation), each statute acre would contain forty trees; consea quently the building of a seventy-four gun fhip would clear, of fuch woodland, the timber of fifty acres. Even supposing the trees to stand at one rod apart (a short distance for trees of the magnitude above mentioned), we should clear twelve acres and an half; no inconsiderable plot of woodland. When we consider the number of king's ships that have been built during the late unfortunate war; and the East Indiamen, merchant hips, colliers, and small craft, that are launched daily in the different ports of the kingdom, we are ready to tremble for the confequences. Nevertheless, there are men who treat the idea of an approaching scarcity as being chimerical; and, at present, we will hope that they have some foundation for their opinion, and that the day of want is not near. At some future opportu. nity we may endeavour to reduce to a degree of certainty, what at present is, in fome measure, conjectural. The present state' of this island with respect to ship-timber is, to the community, a fubject of the very firit importance.'

The observations on grounds are dictated by the truest talte, and we shall beg leave to support our own opinions on their thority. We have the pleasure of finding that our very intel. ligent author generally agrees with the remarks which the difa ferent productions in this way have occasionally drawn from

• A bridge, says he, should never be seen where it is not wanted; a useiels bridge is a deception; deceptions are frauds; and fraud is always hateful, unless when practised to avert




some greater evil. A bridge, without water, is an absurdity; and half a one stuck up as an eye-trap is a paltry trick, which, though it may strike the stranger, cannot fail of disgusting when the fraud is found out.' Nearly in the same 'mauner we lately reprehended a deceit of this kind; and those who may probably disdain to be taught by a reviewer, immured, as is suspecied, in his garret, will probably aitend to observations of an able author, whom they may suppose to be inore converfant with the real scenes.

In our fifty-sixth volume, p. 259, we reviewed the translation of the Viscount d'Ermenonville's Effay on Landscape, and there asserted, in strong terms, the English right to the invention of modern gardening. The French, we observed, were once the strongest opponents of this reformation, and now, when it is generally adopted, they attribute it to the Greeks, the Chinese, or any nation except the English 'This illiberality, in an age so enlightened, is the strongest proof of the weakness of the human mind; of the invincible


which a mean jealousy still enjoys, in spite of enlarged knowlege and free inquiry. In the ornamental parts of gardening, our author opposes this spirit of our neighbours with propriety, and traces with a just discrimination the rise of this delightful art.

• We have been told that the English garden is but a copy of the gardens of the Chinese : this, however, is founded in Gallic envy rather than in truth; for though their style of gardening may not admit of tatooings and topiary works, it has as little to do with natural scenery as the garden of an ancient Roman, or a modern Frenchman :—The art of affifting nature is, undoubtedly, all our own.'

Mankind have, in all'ages, differed respecting the degree of art required in their ornamented gardenings; yet perhaps they have not been always wrong, though they have almost al.,

The eye is foon tired of the style of the obcia jects before it, and we are sometimes tempted, in the midst of rural beauties, to cry out with the secluded coquette, odious, odious trees !' Perhaps, in our retirements, we wish for somewhat different from the face of nature; perhaps we think no pains or art employed, if our gardens are not difiinguished from the country. In the times when extensive plantations were in many places visible, when private property was not ascertained, or, if ascertained, subject to depredations, we separated our gardens, and diftinguished them with an exact regularity. But, when every field was divided by a fence, when strait lines and right angles were generally the objects, and the trees set in hedge rows, or curtailed by the careful bulbandman; when they were despoiled of their beauties, that

ways differed.

they might not injure the crop by their shade, we then looked to other scenes ; and in this variety we have fortunately found reasons to explain, and philofophical principles to support our preference. The next age may see another revolution, and a different philofophy may be brought in aid of it; but, at prefent, it will perhaps be agreeable to our readers to examine how far art may be properly introduced. We shall transcribe our author's sentiments on the subject : they want not our recommendation.

• In the lower classes of rural improvements, art should be seen as little as may be ; and in the more negligent scenes of nature, every thing ought to appear as if it had been done by the general laws of nature, or had grown out of a series of for. tuitous circumstances. But, in the higher departments, art cannot be hid; and the appearance of design ought not to be excluded. A human production cannot be made perfectly natural; and, held out as such, it becomes an impofition. Our art lies in endeavouring to adapt the productions of nature to hu. man taste and perceptions; and, if much art be used, do not attempt to hide it. Who considers an accomplished well-dressed woman as in a state of nature and who, seeing a beautiful ground adorned with wood and lawn, with water, bridges, and buildings, believes it to be a natural production Art feldom fails to please when executed in a matterly manner: nay, it is frequently the design and execution, more than the production itself, that strikes us. It is the artifice, not the design, which ought to be avoided. It is the labour, and not the art, which ought to be concealed. A well-written poem would be read with less pleasure, if we knew the painful exertions it gave rise to in the composition ; and the rural artist ought, upon every occasion, to endeavour to avoid labour; or, if indispenfibly neceffary, to conceal it. No trace should be left to lead back the mind to the expensive toil. A mound raised, a'mountain level. ed, or a useless temple built, convey to the mind feelings equally disgusting.

But though the aids of art are as essential to gardening as education is to manners ; yet art may do too much : the ought to be considered as the handmaid, not as the mistress, of nature: and whether she be employed in carving a tree into the figure of an animal, or in thaping a view into the form of a picture, the is equally culpable. The nature of the place is sacred. Should this tend to landscape, from fome principal point of view, aslist nature, and perfect it; provided this can be done without in, juring the views from other points. But do not disfigure the natural features of the place :--do not sacrifice its native beau. ties, to the arbitrary laws of landscape painting.

" Great nature fcorns controul; she will nog bear
One beauty foreign to the spot or foil



She gives thee to adorn : 'tis thine alone
To mend, not change her features."

MASON. In a picture bounded by its frame, a perfect lanscape is looked for : it is of itself a whole, and the frame must be filled. But it is not so in ornamented nature : for, if a fide-screen be wanting, the eye is not offended with the frame, or the wainScot; but has always some natural and pleasing object to receive it. Suppose a room to be hung with one continued rural representation, -would pretty pictures be expected i would correct landscapes be looked for Nature scarcely knows the thing mankind call a landscape. The landscape-painter seldom, if ever, finds it perfected it to his hands ;- some addition or alteration is almost always wanted. Every man who has made his observations upon natural scenery, knows that the milletoe of the oak occurs almoit as often as a perfect natural landscape; and to attempt to make up artificial landscape, upon every occasion, is unnatural and absurd.'

We have paid more than usual attention to this work, because we think it in many respects valuable; but, as we have remarked some inaccuracies in composition, the intelligent author will forgive us for observing, that the language also is not always correct.

The Prineiples of Moral and Political Philosophy. By William .

Paley, M. A. Archdeacon of Carlisle. 4to. il. is. Faulder. THE HE candour, the liberality, and good fenfe, which are

conspicuous in every page of this important volume, 'de. serve the greatest commendation. The writer on morality has generally divested himself of his feelings, or, in the conduct of the human mind, has forgotten that Providence implanted desires and propenfities, not to be destroyed, but to be regulated; not to be checked, as the bane of human felicity, but to be conducted with moderation and prudence, as its best: sources. We have not often perceived, in authors of this kind, an intimate acquaintance with the human heart, fo necessary to unravel its intricacies, and develope its inconsistencies : 'we have seldom seen, in those well versed in this science, a knowlege of human life, and abilities to trace the ruling paffion, viz, a defire for happiness, through its various mazes, and its different errors. . In all these respects, Mr. Paley seems to be well qualified for his undertaking. The form of the work

Hilde differs from that of many other systems of morality; and this we shall explain chiefly in the author's own words.

• In the treatises that I have met with upon the subject of morals, I appear to myself to have remarked the following im.


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