nor describe the different shades in the verdure of the forest. He is to exhibit in his portraits of Nature such prominent, and striking features, as recall the original to every mind; and must neglect the minuter discriminations (which one may have remarked, and another have neglected) for those characteristics, which are alike obvious to attention and carelessness.'*

The object of a landscape painter should surely be to represent Nature exactly as she appears from the point of view of the spectator. As much, therefore, as the eye can clearly discern in the foreground of a scene should be as clearly-though, of course, in miniature-represented on the canvas. To attempt such exact representation of objects clearly discerned by the spectator we conceive to be in no sense puerile or undignified, but as the highest and noblest aim of art. The natural limitation of our vision no doubt greatly stimulates the imagination. When we are looking, for instance, upon forest scenery, we can clearly discern not the outlines only, but the details of immediately contiguous objects. Much, however, of what lies beyond the foreground is enveloped in a sort of mystery, until we have carefully explored all the nooks and crannies of the ground. Nature delights in these little mysteries, and they greatly add to our impres

Pr. of Abyssin. p. 68.

sions of beauty by their effect upon the imagination. A painter who endeavoured to give in detail what lay beyond the limits of the foreground, would be more than puerile, or pedantic. He should endeavour to render that part of the scene just as Nature shows it from the point of view which he selects.-ED.

SECTION VII.

FOREST LAWNS AND FOREST HEATHS.

AVING thus taken a view of the internal parts of a forest, which consist chiefly of foregrounds, we shall now consider the forest in a light just the reverse, as consisting chiefly of distances. In both lights, it is greatly picturesque; and only more, or less so, in either, as the eye is more pleased with a close or a diffusive landscape.

We skirt and penetrate the recesses of the woods for the closer view; but we frequent the forest lawn and heath for the distant one. The beauty of those scenes (especially of the heath, which is a large surface), depends, it is true, in

a great degree, on the play and irregularities of the ground; but chiefly it depends on the surrounding woods.

The forest lawn in itself is a mere field. It is only when adorned with the furniture of surrounding woods, that it produces its effect.

The forest heath, also, when it is level and bounded only by the horizon, has no charms for the eye. When it consists of well-mixed inequalities of ground, it gains somewhat more upon us. But when it is bounded by woods in various parts, and interspersed, here and there, with clumps, which gently unite its woody boundaries with its area, it becomes an interesting scene. Sometimes also a variety of furze, fern and other wild plants, stain it, in many parts, with beautiful tints. Often, too, a winding road passes through it, or different roads traversing each other. Herds of cattle, also, of different kinds continually frequent its open plains; and when these circumstances happily unite, the heath becomes one of the beautiful scenes of the forest.

As it is distant wood, however, on which the forest lawn, and especially the forest heath, de

pend for their principal aid, I shall dwell a little on this copious subject, and shall consider its most pleasing circumstances under the two heads -of such as are permanent, and such as are incidental.

But before I enter on the subject, it may not be amiss to remind the reader once more,* that as the vast scenes of extensive forests, which we are now considering as distances, are not subject to art, the idea of suggesting rules to alter and improve them is absurd. All we mean is to endeavour to teach the eye to admire justly, and to apply to artificial landscape those observations which occur in natural: for the source of beauty is the same in both.

* See page 286.