On Prniiiiig and Thinning Forest Trees 



183 



the crown ; and a policy equally destructive of 

 the support which would otherwise have been 

 received from them. He assumes that be- 

 cause the branches have the appearance of 

 gaining on the leading shoot, they will there- 

 fore do so. Now, putting aside the single 

 case of conifers with double leaders, we 

 venture to say that the mere appearance of 

 the top branches this year is a very slight 

 indication of what they will be next year or 

 the year after. We have often attempted, in 

 our green and salat days, to form trees by 

 pruning ; but if absent for a year or two, we 

 have invariably found that nature has taken 

 it into her own hand and obliterated our 

 feeble mouldings. It is a matter requiring 

 constant watchfulness to keep a tree in trim, 

 as all fruit-pruners well know. We, therefore, 

 are satisfied, in the first place, that the 

 forester is guessing entirely in the dark in 

 sJiortening the strongest branches. He may 

 be taking those which will prove competitors 

 with the leader, but for one chance that they 

 Avill prove so, there are thousands of chances 

 that they will not. And what does this 

 shortening mean — the taking off the half or 

 two-thirds of the strongest branches of the 

 tree. To hear such a cool proposal one can 

 hardly believe, that the author had, only a 

 few pages before, recognised the justice of 

 Lindley's maxim, above quoted. It is clear 

 that the discovery of the "well-ascertained 

 truth," that " when a young tree is in a vigor- 

 ous state of growtli, any branch may be 

 taken off without the least injury to it," has 

 something to do with this. But how has this 

 been ascertained so satisfactorily? Because 

 we see no apparent damage, are we to infer 

 that none has been done ? It is not actual 

 injury that must be our test; we should 

 require to know how much finer and better 

 the tree would have been, how much more 

 wood it would have made, had it not been 

 mutilated. 



But more than that; even although it 

 could be proved that, contrary to all reason, 

 a plant could get on as w^ell without its im- 

 portant organs as with them, does it follow 

 that we should risk the experiment? Be- 

 cause a fine strong young fellow may escape 



from a wound or two without permanent 

 injury, is that any reason why we should, 

 with malice prepense, inflict Avounds upon all 

 young fellows ? Because it may do no mis- 

 chief, is that any reason for doing it? It is 

 to do good that the process is recommended, 

 surely not because it may be done with im- 

 punity. But even here the author shews that 

 he feels a weakness in his process, for he 

 tells us that on " the poor remainder of the 

 branch (the half or third left), a few small 

 twigs should, if possible, be left, in order the 

 more readily to elaborate the sap as it rises in 

 the spring." Wliat a droll phrase, and what 

 a strange function for the leaves — to elaborate 

 the sap ! — to elaborate it as it rises ! But let 

 us pass the phraseology. He admits that he 

 needs sometliing to repair the mischief he has 

 done by cutting off the supporters of the 

 crown. What is that mischief? 



The affinity between plants and animals 

 may be a moot question, but the analogy 

 between them none will deny ; and whatever 

 may be the opinion as to the affinity, the 

 analogy, at all events, is sufficiently close to 

 allow us to draw inferences safely from the 

 one to the other. 



Let us compare the growth of our own 

 species with that of a tree. The young child 

 is more tender and delicate than the grown 

 man, therefore it is cherished and pro- 

 tected from the cold : so is the young plant 

 more delicate, therefore it should be pro- 

 tected too. This is done by planting it out, 

 not to stand alone, ex])osed on every side, 

 but by planting a number close together, to 

 impart mutual shelter. The child requires 

 nourishment ; its stomach must be sufficiently 

 supplied. So must the plant ; its roots, which 

 we may call its stomach, must have a good 

 and suitable soil from which to extract its 

 nutriment. The child must have plenty of 

 good air to breathe ; if pent in cities, it must 

 at times be sent off to the country or the sea- 

 side, to recover from the effects of the insuffi- 

 cient supply of oxygen. If its parents are 

 unable to do so, it becomes weak, ricketty, 

 and dies ; or, if it survives through inherent 

 strength of constitution developed by increas- 

 ing age, it lives a short and fevered existence. 



