THE TREES OF THE FORESTS. ^6 



while our forests are deprived of the ornament of flowers, many 

 tropical trees have large blossoms, mixing in thick bunches with 

 the leaves, and often entirely overpowering the verdure of the 

 foliage by their gaudy tints. Thus splendid white, yellow, or 

 red-coloured crowns are mingled with those of darker or more 

 humble hue. At length when, on entering the forest, the single 

 leaves become distinguishable, even the last traces of harmony 

 disappear. Here ,they are delicately feathered, there lobed — 

 here narrow, there broad — here pointed, there obtuse — here 

 lustrous and fleshy, as if in the full luxuriance of youth, there 

 dark and arid, as if decayed with age. In many the inferior 

 surface is covered with hair ; and as the wind' plays with the 

 foliage, it appears now silvery, now dark green — now of a 

 lively, now of a sombre hue. Thus the foliage exhibits an 

 endless variety of form and colour ; and where plants of the 

 same species unite in a small group, they are mostly shoots from 

 the roots of an old stem. This is chiefly the case with the 

 palms ; but the species of the larger trees are generally so 

 isolated in the wood, that one rarely sees two alike on the same 

 spot. Each is surrounded bj strangers that begrudge it the 

 necessary space and air ; and where so many thousand forms 

 of equal pretensions vie for the possession of the soil, none is 

 able to expand its crown or extend its branches at full liberty. 

 Hence there is a universal tendency upwards ; for it is only by 

 overtopping its neighbours that each tree can attain the 

 region of freedom and of light; and hence also the crowns 

 borne aloft on those high columnar trunks are comparatively 

 small. Shooting up straight and tall in this general struggle, 

 they present no fe-ntastic branches, no projecting limbs, like 

 the sturdy oaks of our forests, and each, supported by the sur- 

 rounding crowd, loses depth and tenacity of root. They may 

 partly be compared to a body of military: the storm may 

 rage, the lightning blast, the earthquake shake, and though 

 many fall, the body at large scarcely feels the loss. Separate 

 them and they will be found far inferior in power to the wild 

 w^arrior, who, accustomed to stand alone, trusts to his own 

 strength and dexterity to bear him through the worst storms 

 of fate. 



Among the trees the various kinds that have buttresses 

 projecting around their base are the most striking and peculiar. 



