36 TREES OF MASSACHUSETTS. 



the year, so as to foresee and to produce the desired effect at every 

 point which the eye can reach, and the adaptation of the various 

 kinds of trees to the houses, churches, bridges, and other struct- 

 ures already existing or to be erected, and also to water, and to 

 roads, — things evidently possible and yet indefinitely difficult, — 

 to do all this successfully is the province of an art, which well 

 deserves to take its place in the front rank among the fine arts ; 

 whether we consider the science, taste and skill which it calls 

 into play, the vastness of the scale on which it acts, or the 

 grandeur of the end which it has in view. 



But why should it be thought important to reclaim or ren- 

 der valuable the waste or worthless lands of Massachusetts? 

 There are millions of acres of land in the Western States far 

 richer than any in our State, which may be purchased for much 

 less than it will cost to render barren land productive. Why 

 not go thither and occupy the rich wild lands 1 For many rea- 

 sons. This is our native land. It is painful to break the chain 

 of affection which connects us with it. It is painful to separate 

 members of the same family. Every improvement in agricul- 

 ture, in the management of the forests, and in the use of the 

 other natural resources of our State, makes it capable of sus- 

 taining a larger population, and thus enables more of our young 

 men and young women to remain with us, rendering home 

 dearer to those who would otherwise be left behind. The ad- 

 vantages of our life, in the long settled parts of the Bay State, 

 are greater than can be expected, for more than a single genera- 

 tion to come, in the newly settled regions of the valley of the 

 Mississippi or in any other new region. There are still higher 

 reasons. We live in a climate and on a soil, best adapted, from 

 their very severity and sterility, to bring out the energies of mind 

 and body, and to form a race of hardy and resolute men. We 

 have our churches, our schools, our libraries, our intelligent and 

 virtuous neighbors, — dearer to us than any strangers can be. 

 These we are not willing to leave. We wish that our children 

 should grow up under the influence of the institutions which 

 our forefathers have formed and left to us, and which we have 

 been endeavoring to improve. Here we wish to live and to die ; 

 and when we die, we wish to be surrounded by those who are 

 most dear to us. 



