fruitful Hrees. 



waving tree-tops, looking drearily down on the dry 

 rocks once laved by abundant waters, proclaim the 

 short-sightedness of purblind men. Homestead and 

 farm in the valley and upon the plain are bulwarked 

 and defended by the far-away forests which lift their 

 faint blue above the horizon. Yet the farmer and the 

 cottager give no heed to the spoiler of the forests. 

 So long as there is a fire on his hearth and a harvest 

 in his field, the dweller by the river's bank will not 

 sit up at night to watch lest the hosts that protect 

 his fields are slaughtered at their posts. That is so 

 thoroughly human ! We are so slow to trace the 

 connection of what is a little remote from our daily 

 sight and hearing, from our present consciousness, 

 with our personal comfort, safety, salvation. 



It is a hard thing to make a man believe in the 

 importance of anything which does not press immed- 

 iately and heavily upon him, threatening him with 

 loss or proffering him gain, inflicting pain or affording 

 comfort. It took ages to teach man that it was pro- 

 fitable for him to provide for a meal or two ahead of his 

 actual necessities. It took the practical demonstra- 

 tion of steel and gunpowder to make the American 

 people believe that slavery would cost more than it 

 yielded. And to this day every child in our homes 

 has to be taught afresh the lesson that it is not prud- 

 ent for a moment's present pleasure to invite a week 

 of future pain. 



Or, to go a little deeper, these friendly trees teach us 

 that we ought to learn and remember the remote and 



