The prevailing character of a grove is _beauty_; fine trees are lovely
objects; a grove is an assemblage of them; in which every individual
retains much of its own peculiar elegance; and whatever it loses is
transferred to the superior beauty of the whole. To a grove, therefore,
which admits of endless variety in the disposition of the trees,
differences in their shapes and their greens are seldom very important,
and sometimes they are detrimental. Strong contrasts scatter trees which
are thinly planted, and which have not the connection of underwood; they
no longer form one plantation; they are a number of single trees. A
thick grove is not indeed exposed to this mischief, and certain
situations may recommend different shapes and different greens for their
effects upon the _surface_; but in the _outline_ they are seldom much
regarded. The eye attracted into the depth of the grove passes by little
circumstances at the entrance; even varieties in the form of the line do
not always engage the attention: they are not so apparent as in a
continued thicket, and are scarcely seen, if they are not considerable.
But the surface and the outline are not the only circumstances to be
attended to. Though a grove be beautiful as an object, it is besides
delightful as a spot to walk or to sit in; and the choice and the
disposition of the trees for effects _within_ are therefore a principal
consideration. Mere irregularity alone will not please: strict order is
there more agreeable than absolute confusion; and some meaning better
than none. A regular plantation has a degree of beauty; but it gives no
satisfaction, because we know that the same number of trees might be
more beautifully arranged. A disposition, however, in which the lines
only are broken, without varying the distances, is less natural than
any; for though we cannot find straight lines in a forest, we are
habituated to them in the hedge-rows of fields; but neither in wild nor
in cultivated nature do we ever see trees equidistant from each other:
that regularity belongs to art alone. The distances therefore should be
strikingly different; the trees should gather into groups, or stand in
various irregular lines, and describe several figures: the intervals
between them should be contrasted both in shape and in dimensions: a
large space should in some places be quite open; in others the trees
should be so close together, as hardly to leave a passage between them;
and in others as far apart as the connection will allow. In the forms
and the varieties of these groups, these lines, and these openings,
principally consists the interior beauty of a grove.
The consequence of variety in the disposition, is variety in the light
and shade of the grove; which may be improved by the choice of the
trees. Some are impenetrable to the fiercest sunbeam; others let in here
and there a ray between the large masses of their foliage; and others,
thin both of boughs and of leaves, only checker the ground. Every degree
of light and shade, from a glare to obscurity, may be managed, partly by
the number, and partly by the texture of the trees. Differences only in
the manner of their growths have also corresponding effects; there is a
closeness under those whose branches descend low and spread wide, a
space and liberty where the arch above is high, and frequent transitions
from the one to the other are very pleasing. These still are not all the
varieties of which the interior of a grove is capable; trees, indeed,
whose branches nearly reach the ground, being each a sort of thicket,
are inconsistent with an open plantation; but though some of the
characteristic distinctions are thereby excluded, other varieties more
minute succeed in their place; for the freedom of passage throughout
brings every tree in its turn near to the eye, and subjects even
differences in foliage to observation. These, slight as they may seem,
are agreeable when they occur; it is true they are not regretted when
wanting, but a defect of ornament is not necessarily a blemish.
* * * * *
_For the Table Book._