xX. I. THE AMERICAN ELM. 287 
branchlets, and, in ancient trees, the extreme half of the limb, 
pendent, forming a light and regular arch. This graceful cur- 
vature, and absence of all abruptness, in the primary lmbs 
and forks, and all the subsequent divisions, are entirely charac- 
teristic of the tree, and enable an observer to distinguish it in 
the winter and even by night, when standing in relief against 
the sky, as far as it can be distinctly seen. 
‘The American elm affects many different shapes and all of 
them beautiful. Of these, three are most striking and distinct. 
The tall Etruscan vase is formed by four or five limbs, sepa- 
rating at twenty or thirty feet from the ground, going up, 
with a gradual divergency to sixty or seventy, and then bend- 
ing rapidly outward, forming a flat top with a pendent border. 
Such is the fine old tree, still in perfect vigor, which stands by 
the painted gate of the Botanic Garden, in Cambridge. And 
such are many of the noble trees in Northampton and Spring- 
field, and all along the valley of the Connecticut. 
The single or compound plume is represented by trees stretch- 
ing up in a single stem, or two or three parallel limbs, to the 
height of seventy or even a hundred feet, and spreading out in 
one or two light, feathery plumes. Of this character 1s the tall, 
patriarchal tree that stands alone on the common in Pittsfield. 
Many specimens of this form may be seen in Berkshire and in 
other parts of the State where the tall primeval forest has 
been cut away, and the elm alone has been left standing. 
The elm often assumes a character akin to that of the oak; this 
is when it has been transplanted young from an open situation, 
and allowed always to remain by itself. It is then a broad, 
round-headed tree. Of this kind are the large tree on Boston 
Common, the grand old tree by the Aspinwall house in Brook- 
line, and that striking tree, in Hingham, on the road to Cohas- 
set. ‘I‘he resemblance to the oak, however, never very strik- 
ing, is entirely lost as you approach and stand under it. The 
mighty, abrupt strength of the oak is not visible, and you have, 
instead, the graceful majesty of the elm. ‘‘ The buttonwood,” 
says Michaux, ‘‘astonishes the eye by the size of its trunk and 
the amplitude of its head; but the white elm has a more ma- 
jestic appearance, which is owing to its great elevation, to the 
