Fables of the trees, with aphorisms on time and the soul
Cedar, peach, walnut, fig and elm; notes on bark, grafting and boxwood
The left column carries Leonardo's moral fables of the trees, illustrated by small plant sketches: the cedar bowed by its own great fruit, the peach that overloads itself in envy of the walnut, the walnut stoned for flaunting its riches, the fig broken for wishing to be praised, and the fig punished for taunting the barren elm. The right column gathers famous aphorisms and observations — men wrongly lament the flight of time, the painter who works by eye alone is like a mirror without knowledge, and the soul is read in the order of the body it inhabits. Interspersed are horticultural notes on how nature thickens stripped bark, on grafting trees into continuous garden walls and wide boards, and on sowing boxwood seeds into a jasper-like clump.
On this page
Fables of the trees: cedar, peach, walnut, fig and elm
Each tree is undone by ambition or spite. The cedar bends under the great fruit it desired at its summit; the peach, envying the walnut, loads itself until the weight uproots it. The fig, having taunted the barren elm and boasted of its future children, has those very figs stripped by passing soldiers, whereupon the elm asks how much better it would have been to stand without children than to come to so miserable a state.
Aphorisms on time, memory, the soul and learning
Men wrongly complain of the flight of time, for good memory makes all that is long past seem present. Whoever would see how the soul dwells in its body should observe how orderly or confused that body's daily dwelling is. He who disputes by citing authority uses not his wit but his memory, and a good natural talent without learning deserves more praise than a good scholar without talent.
The painter who works by eye alone likened to a mirror
The painter who portrays merely by practice and the judgment of the eye, without reason, is like the mirror that imitates within itself all the things set before it without any knowledge of them.
How nature thickens bark stripped from a tree
When a tree is stripped of its bark in some part, nature sends a greater sum of nutritive humor to that place than to any other, so the bark grows much thicker there. So active is this humor that, reaching the wounded spot, it rises up in part like the bounce of a ball, with various sproutings and germinations, like boiling water.
Grafting trees into continuous walls and boards; boxwood clumps
Many trees planted so they touch will, once joined in the second year, attach together if the bark between them is removed, and by this means one may make continuous garden walls and, in four years, very wide boards. Likewise boxwood seeds sown touching and grown under a perforated vessel knit into a single beautiful clump, and mixed seeds make that clump resemble jasper.
