I have heard a noble earl descant on park and forest
scenery with the science and feeling of a painter. He dwelt on the
shape and beauty of particular trees on his estate, with as much pride
and technical precision as though he had been discussing the merits of
statues in his collection I found that he had even gone considerable
distances to examine trees which were celebrated among rural amateurs;
for it seems that trees, like horses, have their established points of
excellence; and that there are some in England which enjoy very
extensive celebrity among tree-fanciers, from being perfect in their
kind.
There is something nobly simple and pure in such a taste: it argues, I
think, a sweet and generous nature, to have this strong relish for the
beauties of vegetation, and this friendship for the hardy and glorious
sons of the forest. There is a grandeur of thought connected with this
part of rural economy. It is, if I may be allowed the figure, the
heroic line of husbandry. It is worthy of liberal, and free-born, and
aspiring men. He who plants an oak, looks forward to future ages, and
plants for posterity. Nothing can be less selfish than this. He cannot
expect to sit in its shade, nor enjoy its shelter; but he exults in
the idea that the acorn which he has buried in the earth shall grow up
into a lofty pile, and shall keep on flourishing, and increasing, and
benefiting mankind, long after he shall have ceased to tread his
paternal fields.
Pages:
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111