There are many more such studies of light in home landscape, and not least in _Lothair_. And these are all renderings of scenery, and not scene-painting. In those abroad I might have included, too, the German Twilight from _Vivian Grey_, and the Grecian Sunset from _Contarini_, each dashed off with speed, yet each breathing a delicate and pensive peace. Another feature of his pencil is its fondness for and studied conversance with the forms, and even the sounds, of trees. Their “various voices” are introduced with effect into the storm in _Vivian Grey_. As years went on, this love of trees grew stronger. It is expressly mentioned as the hobby of his old age by Lady John Manners. There is not one of his novels where the varieties of wood and forest are not handled with distinctness and affectionate observation. “Contarini’s” pet tree is oak. In _Endymion_ is a park entirely of ilex. A glade at “Hurstley” is “bounded on each side with masses of yew, their dark green forms now studded with crimson berries.” “Nigel Penruddock,” the Tractarian, lolls “on the turf amid the old beeches and the juniper;” and in the woods of a castle in _Vivian Grey_, “There was the elm with its rich branches bending down like clustering grapes; there was the wide-spreading oak with its roots fantastically gnarled; there was the ash with its smooth bark, and the silver beech, and the gracile birch, and the dark fir affording with its rough foliage a contrast to the trunks of its more beautiful companions, or shooting far above their branches with a spirit of freedom worthy of a rough child of the mountains.” “Elegant” and “gracile” in this boyish sketch are Johnsonese, it is true; but its romantic faculty is evident. He delighted, too, in Elizabethan gardens and Italian parterres; and he has drawn, both in outward and inward outline, suggestive and romantic presentments of Oxford, Cambridge, and Eton. And he could paint the marvellous to perfection. In _Alroy_, the magic ravine over which the hero must cross to win his talisman, rises before the view with the detail of reality: so does the ideal island of _Popanilla_. So--and they really belong to the marvellous--do the great country seats of “Montacute,” “Hellingsley,” “Beaumanoir,” “Alhambra,” “Château Désir,” “Hainault,” “Princewood,” and “Muriel Towers.” There are pictures, besides, of Seville, Cairo, and the Frankfort Fair. I could have subjoined the flaming castle in _Sybil_, the Derby in _Endymion_, the bull-fight in _Contarini_, the desert in _Alroy_, the mountain storm in _Vivian Grey_. But I prefer his tranquil pictures, and perhaps one of the best is the “Cherbury” in _Venetia_.