then there are other difficulties in the necessary studies: three or four weeks at the utmost are all that is allowed to the painter from year to year; and from one autumn to another he may almost persuade himself that he was deceived in this or that tint, preserved by his sketches. In short, to become a superior and faithful painter of autumn in this country, must require a course of study quite peculiar, and prolonged over half a lifetime. Still, some landscape Rubens or Titian may yet, perhaps, arise among us, whose pencil shall do full justice to this beautiful and peculiar subject.
Independently of this higher branch of art, one would gladly see the beauty of our autumnal foliage turned to account in many other ways; as yet it has scarcely made an impression upon the ornamental and useful arts, for which it is admirably adapted. What beautiful arabesques might be taken from our forests, when in brilliant color, for frescoes or paper-hangings! What patterns for the dyer, and weaver, and printer; what models for the artificial-flower makers and embroiderers; what designs for the richest kind of carpeting! Before long, those beautiful models which fill the land every autumn, must assuredly attract the attention they deserve from manufacturers and mechanics; that they have not already done so, is a striking proof of our imitative habits in everything of this kind. Had the woods about Lyons been filled with American maples and creepers, we may rest assured that the shops in Broadway and Chestnut street would long since have been filled with ribbons, and silks, and brocades, copied from them.
Wednesday, 18th.—Rainy, mild. The woods, alas! are beginning to fade. Many trees are losing something of their vivid
