high arched crest and flowing mane, is fre quently represented in painting; but his prevailing character, whether there, or in reality, is that of beauty.

In pursuing the same mode of inquiry with respect to other animals, we find that the Pomeranian, and the rough water-dog, are more picturesque than the smooth spaniel, or the greyhound; the shaggy goat than the sheep: and these last are more so when their fleeces are ragged and worn away in parts, than when they are of equal thickness, or when they have lately been shorn. No animal indeed is so constantly introduced in landscape as the sheep, but that, as I observed before, does not prove superior picturesqueness; and I imagine, that besides their innocent character, so suited to pastoral scenes of which they are the natural inhabitants, it arises from their being of a tint at once brilliant and mellow, which unites happily with all objects; and also from their producing when in groups, however slightly the detail may be expressed, broader masses of light and shadow than any other animal. The

reverse of this is true with regard to deer: their general effect in groups, is comparatively meagre and spotty; but their wild appearance, their lively action, their sudden bounds, and the intricacy of their branching horns, are circumstances in the highest degree picturesque.

Wild and savage animals, like scenes of the same description, have generally a marked and picturesque character: and as such scenes are less strongly impressed with that character when all is calm and serene, than when the clouds are agitated and variously tossed about, so whatever may be the appearance of any animal in a tranquil state, it becomes more picturesque, when suddenly altered by the influence of some violent emotion; and it is curious to observe how all that disturbs inward calm, produces a correspondent roughness with

out. The bristles of the chafed and foaming boar-the quills on the fretful porcupine are suddenly raised by sudden emotion; and the angry lion exhibits the same picturesque marks of rage and fierceness,

Παν δε τ' επισκύνιον κατω έλκεται οσσεν καλύπτων.

It is true that in all animals, where great strength and destructive fierceness are united, there is a mixture of grandeur; but the principles on which a greater or lesser degree of picturesqueness is founded, may clearly be distinguished: the lion, for instance, with his shaggy mane, is much. more picturesque than the lioness, though she is equally an object of terror.

The effect of smoothness or roughness in producing the beautiful or the picturesque, is again clearly exemplified in birds. Nothing is more truly consonant to our ideas of beauty, than their plumage when smooth and undisturbed, and when the eye glides over it without interruption: nothing, on the other hand, has so picturesque an appearance as their feathers, when ruffled by any accidental circumstance, or by any sudden passion in the animal. When inflamed with anger or with desire, the first symptoms appear in their ruffled plumage: the game cock, when he attacks his rival, raises the feathers of his neck; the purple pheasant his crest; and the peacock, when he feels the return

of spring, shews his passion in the same

manner,

And every feather shivers with delight.

The picturesque character in birds of prey, arises from the angular form of their beak, the rough feathers on their legs, their crooked talons, their action and energy. All these circumstances are in the strongest degree apparent in the eagle; but from his size as well as courage, from the force of his beak and talons, formidable even to man, and likewise from all our earliest associations, the bird of Jove is always very much connected with ideas of grandeur.

Many birds have received from nature the same picturesque appearance, which in others happens only accidentally: such are those whose heads and necks are adorned with ruffs, with crests, and with tufts of plumes; not lying smoothly over each other as those of the back, but loosely and irregularly disposed. These are, perhaps, the most striking and attractive of all birds, as having that degree of roughness and irregularity, which gives a spirit

to smoothness and symmetry; and where in them, or in other objects these last qualities prevail, the result of the whole is justly called beautiful.

In our own species, objects merely picturesque are to be found among the wan dering tribes of gypsies and beggars; who in all the qualities which give them that character, bear a close analogy to the wild forester and the worn out cart-horse, and again to old mills, hovels, and other inanimate objects of the same kind.— More dignified characters, such as a Belisarius, or a Marius in age and exile*, have the same mixture of picturesqueness and of decayed grandeur, as the venerable remains of the magnificence of past ages.

If we ascend to the highest order of created beings, as painted by the grandest of our poets, they, in their state of glory and happiness, raise no ideas but those of beauty and sublimity; the picturesque, as

* The noble picture of Salvator Rosa at Lord Townshend's, which in the print is called Belisarius, has been thought to be a Marius among the ruius of Carthage.