TREES. 
215 
much do not we ourselves owe to the forests as regards our daily- 
wants ! Our fields are divided by wooden fences ; wooden bridges 
cross our rivers ; our village streets and highways are being paved 
with wood ; the engines that carry us on our way by land and 
by water are fed with wood ; the rural dwellings without and 
v> ithin, their walls, their floors, stairways, and roofs are almost 
wholly of wood ; and in this neighborhood the fires that burn on 
our household hearths are entirely the gift of the living forest. 
But independently of their market price in dollars and cents, 
the trees have other values : they are connected in many ways with 
the civilization of a country ; they have their importance in an 
intellectual and in a moral sense. After the first rude stage of 
progress is past in a new country — when shelter and food have 
been provided — people begin to collect the conveniences and 
pleasures of a permanent home about their dwellings, and then 
the farmer generally sets out a few trees before his door. This 
is very desirable, but it is only the first step in the track ; some- 
thing more is needed ; the preservation of fine trees, already 
standing, marks a farther progress, and this point we have not 
yet reached. It frequently happens that the same man who yes- 
terday planted some half dozen branchless saplings before his 
door, will to-day cut down a noble elm, or oak, only a few rods 
from his house, an object which was in itself a hundred-fold more 
beautiful than any other in his possession. In very truth, a fine 
tree near a house is a much greater embellishment than the thick- 
est coat of paint that could be put on its walls, or a whole row of 
wooden columns to adorn its front ; nay, a large shady tree in a 
door-yard is much more desirable than the most expensive ma- 
hogany and velvet sofa in the parlor. Unhappily, our people 
