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dwelling, with its *' span new " expression, standing in tlie midst of a multitude of tall 

 poles, with tufts of leaves upon their tops, looking like fowls stripped of their feathers, 

 and the bare ground fretted everywhere with freshly upturned roots, the sole remnants 

 of the wild shrubbery which has been ruthlessly exterminated. 



In order to a comprehension of the principles of healthy forest growth, let us con- 

 sider some of the processes of nature, and learn from them her requirements. 



If we plant the seed of a maple, chestnut, linden, oak or ash tree by itself in the 

 open ground in suitable soil, and suffer it to grow without molestation, simply guarding 

 it from injury, we shall find that the first act of the young plant is to send out broad 

 leaves, which serve among other purposes to shade completely the stem, and the ground 

 immediately around it in which the roots are growing. As the tree grows, it preserves a 

 symmetrical shape, the limbs spreading and the trunk increasing in size, in proportion to 

 its height, but always preserving the condition of keeping the trunk and the ground for 

 a considerable distance around it, in the shadow of the foliage till mature age, when the 

 roots have penetrated to such a depth as to be safe from injury, and the trunk is pro- 

 tected by thick layers of cork like bark, which safely guards alike from heat and cold the 

 inner layers and young wood in which the sap is performing its functions. 



Such are the conditions to which nature adheres, if not interfered with by accident 

 or design, and such, therefore, we may be sure, are those best adapted to healthy and vig- 

 orous growth. The fact that they are continually violated with apparent impunity, 

 serves only to show the wonderful power of nature to supply deficiencies, and adapt her- 

 self to circumstances, but in artificial culture, we should aim as nearly as possible to imit- 

 ate the course she would pursue if unimpeded. 



The requirements of nature are of course the same when trees are growing together in a 

 forest, as when they stand singly, but the conditions of growth are so changed that the 

 end is attained by entirely different means. 



If we enter a tract of wood land, covered with a hard-wood growth of an average 

 height of thirty or forty feet we find it composed almost exclusively of trees which have run 

 up to a great height in proportion to the spread of their limbs. The largest and oldest of 

 them may have had some lateral branches which are now dead, but the younger growth 

 will consist only of tall, slender stems, without a branch or leaf except near the top. It 

 will be difficult, perhaps impossible, to find a single tree possessing sufficient symmetry of 

 form to be worth transplanting for ornamental use. A little reflection will serve to con- 

 vince us that this form of growth, so different from that of the single tree in the open 

 ground, is the natural result of the action of the same rules under changed conditions. 



When a young wood first springs up on open ground, each tree begins to grow as if 

 it were alone, sending out lateral branches and preserving its just proportion. But when- 

 ever these laterals meet and mingle with each other, they shut out the sunlight from all 

 below, and thence forward all lateral growth must cease, and each individual is struggling 

 upward to keep even with its neighbours and secure its share of the sunbeams which are 

 essential to its existence, and which can only be had at the top. It thus becomes forced 

 out of all just proportions in the effort to keep even with its fellows. The conditions of 

 keeping the trunk and roots in the shade, however, are even more rigidly adhered to than 

 in the case of the single tree, growing by itself, for the whole area of the wood is shaded, 

 and, moreover, the trees on the edges of the wood, if not interfered with by men or cattle, 

 will be clothed on the outer side with limbs and foliage clear to the ground, so as to 

 check the free passage of the winds whose drying influence upon the soil is even more 

 active than that of the sun. 



If we examine more closely we shall find that nature adapts herself to these changed 

 conditions, and avails herself of whatever advantages they afford. 



The single tree when growing by itself sends its roots deep into the ground in search 

 of the moisture which cannot be bad near the surface, and thus, when it reaches mature 

 age, it draws its supplies from sources beyond the reach of temporary changes, and, more- 

 over, secures so firm a hold upon the ground that it suffers no injury from the storms that 

 assail it, but fearlessly stretches forth its arms as if to challenge the gale. 



In the woods, on the contrary, the surface soil never becomes parched or heated, but 

 maintains an even degree of temperature and moisture in consequence not only of the ex- 



