Besides the above mentioned part of orchard, we have, by this practice,

removed successfully (in some cases so much so as that no trace of the

removal appeared), a considerable number of trees, where they were

growing too close, and think it simpler, and much superior to Sir

Henry’s, wherever the stool of the tree can be turned up with a large

cake of earth, as in cases where the greater part of the roots run out

horizontally near the surface, which always occurs in flat ground, when

the subsoil is soaking with moisture the greater part of the season.

Whatever risk there may be of the tree not growing when it has been

subjected to all Sir Henry’s formal and tedious process, assisted

by costly machinery, there is none here, provided it is placed in

drained trenched ground, as a considerable number of the small fibres

on which the suction of moisture for supply of the leaves depends,

remain untouched, with this earth around them, and {241} strike out

immediately in the new moist soft soil; and there is no laceration

of the main roots, which, by Sir Henry’s plan, cannot altogether be

avoided, this laceration being much more pernicious, and likely to

occasion putrescency, than simple cross section[49].

By the above sledging practice, we have successfully removed fruit

trees 2 1/2 feet in circumference, at two feet from the ground,

and have had some 20 feet high, make a new addition to their height

of six inches the first summer, where no shortening of the top had

taken place. We have also plucked fair loads of fruit, both first

and second season, as large {242} and well matured as any of the

same kind produced by trees which had not been touched; but it is

generally prudent not to allow them to fruit the first two seasons. As

an experiment, we cut most of the branches from the top of two of the

trees—that is, headed them down, but found these did not grow so well

as those which were only slightly pruned, or not pruned at all.

Pruning at planting should take place in cases where there are long

annual shoots of the preceding season, or much close spray as in old

fruiting-trees; the former should be cut in, to five or six buds in

length, and the latter ought to be thinned, to an extent, which the

kind of tree, the largeness and safe state of the root, soil, exposure,

and climate, must determine: we request our readers to pay attention to

this. Pruning the long annual shoots, prevents a too early formation of

leaves, which often occurs in moist cold soil, and which wither before

the roots begin to strike.

In some cases, where we found the earth too friable, and not

sufficiently bound together by the roots, to rise up in a cake, we

first prepared the stool for upsetting, and waited for hard frost[50]

to bind {243} the earth and roots into a firm body like a large

millstone, pouring some water upon it the evening previous to the

commencement of the frost, that it might become firmer; we then

proceeded with our sledging during the frost if the road was smooth;

and, if rough, we covered over the frozen root with straw to retain

the frost; and the first day of fresh, when the ground was soft and

slippery above, and hard underneath, we proceeded with our work, taking

care not to cover up the root with earth till it had thawed. We have

found (contrary to general opinion), that no injury is sustained by

exposure of the roots of various kinds of trees to frost, or as great

cold as generally occurs at the surface of the ground in this climate.

We have succeeded equally well with pear-trees, which had lain out on

the exposed bare crown of a ridge for two months of winter, without

the smallest quantity of earth adhering to the roots, or protection of

any kind, as with those immediately from the ground where they grew.

We have even thought that a certain exposure of the roots to cold

increased their susceptibility to be stimulated to strike quicker by

the warmth of the ground in spring, and thus the root suction coming to

act sooner than it usually does in transplanted trees without balls,

and nearer the time of the expansion {244} of the leaves; the check

occasioned by the upper vegetation being too forward for the lower, was

not so great. In some cases a slight degree of withering also appeared

to have a good effect in deterring the development of the buds till the

earth acquired a warmth sufficient for the root striking.

We succeeded to our wish with those we transplanted by sledging,

excepting a few which were placed among young trees obtained from a

sale nursery. These young plants brought along with them a number of

the eggs of the common green caterpillar. These eggs produced larvæ

upon the young trees the following spring; and these larvæ going down

into the earth, produced a small grey silvery moth in July. The moths,

from the tallest plants being most opposed to them in their flight,

or from being guided by common parasitical instinct to choose the

largest subjects, deposited their eggs upon the removed old trees in

preference to those on which they had been brought from the nursery,—a

preference which did not seem to arise from any sickliness of the old,

as they were fully as vigorous the first summer after transplanting

as the young. These imported vermin prospering under the propitious

dry warm summer of 1826, rendered several of the old trees as bare of

foliage the second and third June after {245} removal as they were in

December; they have now, however, recovered their vigour, shaken off

their parasites, and have produced good loads of fruit.

We may be thought fastidious in our tastes, and extravagant in our

wishes, but we desire and expect more of our country gentlemen than

to be mere idlers, or worse than idlers,—practisers of the _Allanton

system_. When they turn their attention to forestry, we would have

them to sow, or to plant from the nursery, and not to disturb and

torture the fine growing timber which their fathers had located, and

which generally suffers irreparable injury from removal,—a system to

which Sir Henry Steuart is so absurdly attached, as to recommend its

practice, although only _to turn the lee side of the tree round_ to

the wind in the same spot. Nor have we much sympathy with Sir Walter

Scott’s taste for home-keeping squires,—those Shallows and Slenders

with whom our great dramatist has made himself so merry. We would have

our landed gentlemen to know that _they_ are the countrymen,—many

of them, perhaps, of the blood of the Raleighs, the Drakes, and the

Ansons. Let them, like our Wellington, our Nelson, our Cochrane,

Wilson, Miller, and many others, continue to set before the world some

little assurance of British manhood. Let them, like our {246} no less

honourable Penns, and Baltimore, and Selkirk, lay foundations of future

empires. We would have our young men of fortune go abroad into the

world as soon as their scholastic education is completed,—not to spend

a few idle years in Paris, Rome, or other of the common enervating

haunts,—they might as well remain in mother’s drawingroom or father’s

stable; but to view man and nature under every appearance. Let them

acquire horsemanship on the Pampas of La Plata; hunt the lion and

the elephant, and other game, at the Cape, and study the botany and

natural history of these prolific wilds. Let their ideas shoot while

they recline under the lone magnificence of the primeval forest, while

they gallop over the unappropriated desert, free as the Bedouin, or lie

down composedly to sleep, serenaded by the hyena and jackal’s howl, and

lion’s roar. Let them learn geology and mineralogy on the Andes and

Himalaya, and around every shore where the strata are denuded. Let them

wind about among those abrupt rocks and craggy precipices, where they

may contemplate the sea-bird’s household economy—the wild herbs of the

cliff—the vegetation and shells and monsters of the ocean—the solitary

white sail from distant land—the vestiges of olden time, the exuviæ

of former worlds, in the {247} exposed strata—the abrasion of the

rocky land by the continued battering of the numberless pebbles moved

backward and forward by the heaving of the ceaseless wave. Let them

study the currents, and winds, and meteorology on the ocean, and enjoy

the sublime feeling of riding over it in its wildest mood. Let them

join the ranks of freedom in any quarter of the world where freedom is

opposed to tyranny. Let them head the savage horde, and introduce the

morality and arts of Britain among the ignorant barbarian; or lead out

colonies of our starved operatives to new lands of high agricultural

capability, where for centuries no population-preventive checks would

be necessary. No other employment of life could be so abounding in

heart-stirring emotion, as leading out the enthusiastic emigrants, with

their huddled groups of children, whom you know you have rescued from

the irksome unhealthy toil and wretchedness of the city manufactory;

no occupation could be more delightful than cherishing the new-born

settlement during the privations and hardships of infancy; in procuring

a supply of food, when through mistakes, owing to ignorance of the

climate and other circumstances, success had not attended their

industry; and in leading them on to an effective self government. One

would gladly leave {248} this old world, whose surface is disfigured

all over by man’s patched drilled deformities, and pass on to a new

one, where inviolated nature has produced and reared her own children

after her own fashion, where every plant occupies its own place and

blossoms in its own time. This order must afford intense delight

to the naturalist, independent of the novelty of every thing, from

the constellation in the sky to the lichen on the stone. In such a

place, one should feel remorse to suffer the hatchet to work, or the

ploughshare to enter in.

We fear these amusements (to which indeed, the British seem more

disposed than any other people), would spoil all relish for the

_Allanton system_, and that our travellers, on their return, would

suffer the thriving trees planted by their fathers to remain at rest,

and rather incline to introduce into the park some of their hardy

foreign favourites—the iron-wood evergreens of Patagonia, the valuable

pines and other trees of New Zealand and Eastern Asia. We believe,

also, that an acquaintance with the real world, obtained in this

way, would be much better fitted, than the following Sir Walter’s

recommendation, to render our gentlemen in after life able and ready to

direct at the nation’s councils, and to improve their estates, and the

condition of their dependents. {249} Perhaps they would then disdain

to hang on at St Stephen’s, the contemptible retainers (all but in

livery) of some intriguing member of the cabinet, like hungry jackals

(call-jack), for the pickings their master might leave them.

* * * * *

Having now looked at the general bearing of our subject, we shall

approach it a little closer, to examine the facts, inductions, and

minutiæ of the practice.

When we first heard of Sir Henry Steuart’s celebrated discoveries

and new system of moving about large live trees, and read Sir Walter

Scott’s declaration, that Birnam wood might now in reality come down

living to Dunsinane, we were disposed to hold Sir Henry a magician,

and were not a little alarmed lest grown up trees might indeed

acquire, under his art, the locomotive power, and gallop about, to

the no small terror and danger of his Majesty’s subjects; but, on

closer examination, we find all Sir Henry’s art resolve itself into

transferring them from one hole into another, by the labour of real men

and horses, without injuring the trees to such a degree as preclude

hope of recovery under proper subsequent attention. His mode of

performing this may be stated shortly as follows:—

1st, Procure sturdy subjects, not drawn up tall {250} and delicate

in close plantations, but with short stem balanced all round with

numerous compact branches, and well and regularly rooted, such as occur

in open situation on level surface. If you have not trees possessing

these _prerequisites_ ready at hand Go prepare them. Thin out your

young woods to double and triple distance, according as you intend

to transfer them to sheltered or exposed situations; cut the roots

of these trees, and trench around them at a few feet distant from

the bulb, or lay down rich compost mould around them, to encourage

exuberance of rooting, _and in eight or ten years_ you will have fit

subjects for removal!

2d, Prepare the site a year previous, by trenching and manuring with

compost, carefully mixing and blending the whole (the upper and lower

earth of the soil and compost), and adding mould when the soil is

shallow; attending to thicken and mix clay soil with sandy mould, and

sand soil with clayey mould, also guarding against lodgment of water.

Recent farm-yard dung, peat-moss, and quick-lime, when well compounded

together, make an excellent compost manure.

3d, Commence extricating your trees by opening a deep trench at the

extremities of the roots, undermining a little inward, and gradually

severing the {251} earth from the rootlets, by stirring, scraping, and

shaking with a very light pick, at the same time throwing the separated

earth out of the hole, and working inward with the shovel underneath

the bared rootlets, till the tree is so far loosened as to be upset

by pulling on a rope fixed near the top, the rootlets, as extricated,

being bundled up so as to be as much out of the way of injury as

possible. Now, throw some earth into the hole; re-elevate the tree

upon this earth, and upset it in the contrary direction; continue to

throw in earth, elevate and upset in the contrary direction, till the

bottom of the root be nearly on a level with the surface of the ground.

Procure a large two wheeled wood-drag, and wheel it backward close to

the standing tree. Elevate the pole of this drag, and tie it firmly

aloft to the stoutest and most convenient part of the top. Make the

body of the tree near the root fast to the axle, or to a beam raised a

little above the axle, a pad intervening between the axle or beam and

body of the tree, to prevent injury to the bark; then by pulling down

upon the top of the pole, upset the tree upon the drag, balancing as

near as possible upon the axle. All being now in readiness, attach your

horses to the reverse end of the drag, where the root is swung, and

have your plant pulled {252} backward to its new berth, and deposit it

carefully there, without any top-pruning, having its heaviest branches

towards the west, that it may the better withstand our prevailing

winds, taking great care to divide and comb out all the rootlets, and

to pack in the fine prepared mould, so as to separate them nearly in

the order they formerly occupied. Then _sad_ down the whole by beating

or watering, and mulch over all to exclude the drought.

4th, Water every two or three days in dry weather, during the early

part of the first summer, and continue for several years to work over

the surface of the ground by repeated hoeing or otherwise, till the

tree has forgotten her rough treatment, and has become reconciled to

her new quarters.

Now, this is Sir Henry’s practice. What is there here meriting the name

of discovery? All the world knew long ago, that trees drawn up tall and

delicate, in sheltered situations, were unfit for an open exposure,

especially when of considerable size. We have ourselves dug trenches

round trees, and picked the earth from the rootlets with pointed

instruments, preserving as far as possible every fibre entire. We have

often collected fine mould and composts upon the ground previous to

planting, and trenched over the soil; we have carefully arranged the

{253} rootlets, and packed in our prepared mould; we have noticed

that mutilating the top of certain kinds of trees was very pernicious,

particularly of the beech and the oak; we have invariably turned round

the heaviest branches to the west; we have mulched and watered the

first summer, and have hoed around the plants for years afterwards;

conveyance by a two-wheeled timber-drag has been long in use (we have

employed the axle and wheels of a common cart); many, before Sir Henry,

have prepared the roots by previous cutting; what planter of experience

is ignorant of all this? We grant Sir Henry has done all this well;

much of it must have occurred to himself, as it has done to us, as it

will do to any person of ordinary acuteness and observation, but does

this merit the name of discovery, or comparison with steam and gas?

We shall now give some little attention to a subject on which we

consider Sir Henry’s claim to the rank of philosophic discoverer solely

rests, and which he introduces to our notice certainly with sufficient

prefatory flourish, under the designation of his “new principle,”

“his rational theory,” which he predicts will raise transplanting of

trees of considerable size to the rank of a useful art, it being thus

founded on fixed principles. In order to bring the matter fairly {254}

before the mind of our readers, we are under the necessity of having

recourse to a long quotation. We fear our readers will find Sir Henry’s

metaphysics not very intelligible; but this may well be forgiven, we

are all too guilty of plunging about when we get into deep water, and

some of us have not always sense enough to swim with the stream.

We here introduce a quotation of our author:

“But while every organic creation tends to full development, that is,

to absolute energy, or perfect life, still we find, that the organs of

which it is composed are each reciprocally dependent on every other,

for the possibility and degree of their peculiar action. At the same

time, as these internal conditions of animated existence are severally

dependent on certain external conditions, which, again, are not always

fully and equally supplied; so it follows, that the life of every

organized being is determined in its amount, and in the direction

of its development, by the outward circumstances of its individual

situation. For this reason, we see that every animal, and every plant,

is dependent for its existence, and also for its perfect existence, on

conditions both internal and external.

“From this reasoning it may be conceived, how the several parts of

the living whole reciprocally act and react. They are, in fact, cause

and effect {255} mutually; and no one can precede another, either in

the order of nature, or of time. Thus, in an animal, the digestive,

and the absorbent, the sanguineous, the respiratory, and the nervous

systems are at once relative and correlative. In like manner, in a

plant, the same reciprocal proportion is found to hold between the

roots and the stem, the branches and the leaves: Each modifies and

determines the existence of all the others, and is equally affected

by all in its turn. And as their several parts, by means of their

union, constitute the organic whole; and as their functions, by the

same means, realize the complement of life, which the plant or animal

exhibits; it is evident, that every living individual is a necessary

system, in which no one part can be affected, without affecting the

other parts, and throughout which there reigns an intimate sympathy,

and a complete harmony of perfection and imperfection.

“Further; The external conditions of this internal development of

plants and animals, are Food, Air, and Heat; while Light seems to be a

peculiar condition, indispensably necessary to plants. Where any one

of these conditions is not supplied, the existence of life, whether

animal or vegetable, becomes impossible; where it is insufficiently

supplied, life is {256} proportionally enfeebled or repressed.

But, to limit our consideration to the vegetable kingdom, it may

be observed, that where a loose and deep soil affords an abundant

supply of food, where a genial climate diffuses warmth in an adequate

degree, and where a favourable exposure allows a competent access of

light (for air, being fully and universally given, may be thrown out

of the case); in these circumstances, a plant, if not mechanically

injured, will vigorously exercise its functions, and attain the full

development of its parts, thus realizing the absolute complement

of life, to which it naturally tends. In the same way, when these

conditions are stinted, the luxuriance of the plant is checked, in the

ratio of that restraint, and the deficiency of the supply. Where any

one of the external conditions is partially or inadequately supplied,

the plant appears to make special, and even forced efforts to secure

as much of the beneficial influence as it can, and to accommodate

itself to the exigency of its situation. Thus, where light is admitted

only from a single point, a plant concentrates all its powers, in

stretching towards the direction of the light. Where light is shed all

around, the plant throws out its branches on every side. In conformity

with this principle, we find, that, in the interior of a wood, where

the Trees {257} mutually impede the lateral admission of light, the

tendency of each is upwards; and the consequence of this tendency is,

that the plant is thereby not developed in its natural and perfect

proportions, but is elongated, or drawn up to an undue height. It

displays its ramification chiefly near the top; while the imperfection

of its life is manifested in the whole character of its vegetation. In

open exposures, on the other hand, the tree developes its existence,

in full health and luxuriance. It reaches a height, such as the soil

and situation admit, and sufficient to allow the branches, which are

thrown out on every side, to expand their leaves freely to the sun.

Not being compelled to concentrate its efforts, in securing a scanty

supply of one beneficial influence, all its proportions are absolute

and universal, not relative and particular. In such circumstances,

therefore, it may be considered as in a full and natural state of

perfection.

“Another condition of vegetable life appears to be an adequate

degree of Heat. Within a certain range of temperature, vegetation

is positively promoted: Below, or above a certain point (the degree

differing in different species of plants), vegetation is positively

checked. To speak only of the latter case, which is briefly expressed

by the term {258} Cold, it is either produced by absolute lowness

of temperature, or, in particular circumstances, by the generation

of cold, through the effect of wind, and consequent evaporation

from a moist surface; for trees, in themselves, have but little

self-generated heat, above the surrounding temperature. Some they

certainly possess, otherwise they would be killed during severe

frosts. Of the above accidents nature can modify the former, by

accommodating different species of plants to different latitudes

and elevations: Against the latter she adopts the plan of affording

suitable protection to the individual. In the interior of woods, where

the free current of air is intercepted, where stillness and serenity

are maintained, and where each tree affords shelter, more or less,

to every other, nature has little need to generate the provisions

necessary to mitigate the injurious effects of evaporation. But, in

open exposures, and in the case of isolated trees, this effect must

be assuaged, and is, in fact, to a certain extent alleviated, by

various provisions or properties, bestowed upon the tree itself. In

the first place, a thicker and closer ramification of the sides and

top is supplied, and a more abundant spray towards the stormy quarter,

thereby furnishing a kind of clothing of leaves, in order to protect

from cold both the {259} ascending and the descending sap-vessels:

And, secondly, a greater induration of the epidermis, and thickness

of the cortical layers of the bark are provided; which, forming a bad

conductor of heat, act as a still more effectual defence to the stem,

by preventing the immediate and powerful application of cold, through

the sudden subtraction of caloric, from the proper vessels of the

inner bark.

“In this economy, nature only follows the analogy which she displays

in modifying the influence of cold upon the animal kingdom. The

quadrupeds, which are destined to encounter the severity of an Arctic

winter, are provided with thick and shaggy coats, to enable them to

withstand the intensity of the cold; and all the richest furs, which

man employs to supply his natural, or rather his artificial wants,

are always furnished by animals inhabiting the highest latitudes, and

killed during the severest frosts. What is still more illustrative of

the point under consideration is, that the coats of animals, of which

the thin and short hair is familiar to us in the temperate climates,

such as the dog, the fox, and the ox, are all remarkable, under the

polar regions, for their close, lengthened, and almost impenetrable

fibre, as a secure barrier of non-conducting matter, to prevent the

escape of their vital heat. {260}

“In like manner, in all the other relations, we see Nature especially

accommodating the character of each individual plant, to the

exigencies of its particular situation. In the interior of woods, the

wind can exert a far less mechanical effect on individual trees; and

therefore, while they are _positively_ determined to push upwards

towards the light, they are _negatively_ permitted to do so, by the

removal of any necessity to thicken their trunks, for the sake of

greater strength, and to contract the height of them, in order to

afford the blast a shorter lever against the roots. But, with trees in

an open situation, all this is widely different. There they are freely

exposed to the wind, and the large expansion of their branches, gives

every advantage to the violence of the storm. Nature, accordingly,

bestows greater proportional thickness, and less proportional

elevation on trees, which are isolated, or nearly so; while their

system of root, which, by necessity, is correlatively proportional

to their system of top, affords likewise heavier ballast, and a

stronger anchorage, in order to counteract the greater spread of sail,

displayed in the wider expansion of the branches.

“Every individual tree is thus a beautiful system of qualities,

specially relative to the place which it holds in creation; of

provisions admirably {261} accommodated to the peculiar circumstances

of its case. Here every thing is necessary; nothing is redundant. In

the words of a great philosopher, who was an accurate observer of

nature, ‘Where the necessity is obviated, the remedy, by consequence,

is withdrawn.’ If these facts and reasonings be correctly stated,

the only rational theory of the removal of large trees consists,

in prospectively maintaining the same harmony between the existing

provisions of the tree, and the exigencies of its new situation, as

had previously subsisted between its relative properties and the

circumstances of its former site.”

“In considering the characteristics of trees above mentioned, we

should always bear in mind, that every production of nature is an

end to itself, and that every part of it is, at once, end and mean.

Of trees in open exposures we find, that their peculiar properties

contribute, in a remarkable manner, to their health and prosperity.

In the first place, their shortness and greater girth of stem, in

contradistinction to others in the interior of woods, are obviously

intended to give to the former greater strength to resist the winds,

and a shorter lever to act upon the roots; Secondly, their larger

heads, with spreading branches, in consequence of the free access of

light, are formed as plainly for the nourishment, as well as {262}

the balancing of so large a trunk, and also for furnishing a cover to

shield it from the elements; Thirdly, their superior thickness and

induration of bark is, in like manner, bestowed for the protection

of the sap-vessels that lie immediately under it, and which, without

such defence from cold, could not perform their functions; Fourthly,

their greater number and variety of roots are for the double purpose

of nourishment and strength; nourishment to support a mass of such

magnitude, and strength to contend with the fury of the blast.”

“On the other hand, in the interior of woods, a universal tendency,

for the reasons already stated, is observable in trees, to rise to

the light, to attain greater altitude, to form far smaller heads, and

taller, slenderer, and more elegant stems. Here is found a milder

and more genial climate; in which, by means of the calm generated by

shelter, vegetation is not checked by cold, and, at the same time,

is undisturbed by the external impediment of wind; and nature has no

need, as in the case of exposures, to generate provisions necessary

to mitigate the effect of evaporation, as has been above observed, or

to endue each individual tree with distinct and appropriate means of

defence against the elements.”

“That, as the four protecting properties, {263} already delineated, as

belonging to trees in open situations, are essential and necessary to

the vigorous development of their existence, so they may be set down

as indispensable prerequisites for those intended for transplantation,

which generally implies increased exposure; and that soil and climate

being equal, such subjects will succeed the best as are endued in the

greatest degree with those prerequisites or properties.”

“If we adopt this principle, and follow it up with a judicious mode

of execution, it seems evident that the necessity of defacing or

mutilating the fine tops of trees will be entirely superseded. _We

shall obtain at once_, what the art, as hitherto practised, has not

been able to obtain for us, the Immediate and Full effect of Wood,

that is, _Trees complete and perfect in all their parts_, without

the loss of the time required to replace the parts so defaced and

mutilated.”—“And if such a mode of execution be superinduced upon it,

as shall furnish to the tree a competent supply of sap at the critical

period of removal, the art probably may be said to be established on

_fixed principles_.”

“Wind being, in a great degree, excluded in unthinned plantation, and

evaporation prevented, heat is, by consequence, generated in an undue

degree. {264} In the same way, light is nearly shut out from such

plantations, except from the top, and a disproportionate elongation of

the stem is occasioned _by the efforts which each individual makes to

gain the light_.” P. 191.

* * * * *

Now, what do we gather from all these _discoveries_ which, in

continuation, our author turns round and round, and exhibits to us

under every combination, with admirable elegance, it must be allowed,

like the objects in a kaleidoscope?—that trees grown in sheltered

situation are not suited for exposed situation, because their roots are

proportionally too small, and the stem too long for stability under

the strain of high winds; their exterior bark or epidermis, dead and

living, too thin to afford protection to the sap-vessels from cold,

the effect of evaporation caused by the wind; their spray and leaves

too elevated and open to exclude the cold, or wind generating cold,

from the stem and branches. That the reverse coexistent conditions of

trees in open situation—short stout stem, thick bark dead and living,

strong rooting, close cover of spray and leaves all around, befitting

the plant to withstand the tempest, and affording shelter to the

sap-vessels of the stem and branches—and these conditions being {265}

wanting when redundant in sheltered situation, show the beautiful

adaptation of means to end, like warm fur of animals in cold countries:

That trees being formed to grow tall in close situation, is a

beneficent provision of Providence for accommodating man with straight

long clean deal and beams: That trees shoot tall in close situation

because they strain hard to reach the light: That trees shoot tall in

close situation from warmth: That shelter and exposure is heat and

cold: That, “to establish any just analogy between the transplanting of

young and of old trees is utterly impossible:” That these conditions

of trees being thus explained to mankind, and followed up by judicious

execution, the thing is reduced to fixed principles, and raised to the

rank of an useful art, and the necessity of defacing, or mutilating,

the fine tops of trees, when transplanted, entirely superseded.

We shall now attempt to weigh some of these assertions and conclusions

of Sir Henry, and to pursue these inquiries a little farther.

It is known to every forester, that trees growing in close order,

and drawn up tall, will not continue healthy on being thinned out to

very open arrangement, but will often fall victims to the change of

circumstances, even though they withstand the gale. Who, then, would

be guilty of the folly of expecting {266} they would bear exposure

and the injuries of transplanting at the same time? Sir Henry Steuart

mentions some particular facts as causes of this unsuitableness.

Perhaps it would have been as well to ascribe it to general inaptitude

and delicacy, as there are several other circumstances not easily

understood, such as vital stamina, habitude or acclimatizing, and

texture and configuration of vessels, which must have influence. We

should also think simple evaporation of the fluids of the transplanted

tree a much greater cause of its failure than the cold of this or

of any other evaporation acting to numb the sap-vessels in the stem

and branches. The absorbing mouths of the rootlets, excepting in the

case of very large balls, are generally destroyed by the operation

of removal; and the development of the leaves to a certain extent

taking place before any new process of striking of the roots, owing

to the atmosphere and branches getting sooner heated in spring than

the ground and roots, the half-developed leaves shrivel up in the

arid spring air, from the evaporation of the juices and deficiency

of root-suction; and when the air gets moist, showers fall, and the

earth becomes warm enough for the _striking_ of the roots, the vital

principle is too far spent, or the material substance too much changed,

for the {267} recommencement of organic action. We have found that

trees which had remained months out of ground, and were planted in

March, succeed better than trees removed immediately from their old

site to their new, both being planted with equal care in the same

ground at the same time. The latter acquired half developed leaves

early in April, which withered from deficiency of root-suction; and it

was only with attention that we succeeded in causing them to bud forth

anew and acquire leaves about midsummer; in several, we stimulated the

root-suction by application of heated water, covering up with litter

to retain the heat. The former were several weeks more backward in

leafing, and when the buds burst, the ground had become warm enough

for _root-striking_, and the vegetation proceeded without check. Sir

Henry will say, that the check sustained by those which leafed early,

was owing to the numbing effect of the cold spring wind, and of the

cold of evaporation on the sap-vessels of the stem; but we had caused

several of them to be wrapped round the stem with soft straw-ropes,

and this did not prevent the shrivelling of the leaves, although it

certainly protected the sap-vessels from the cold. This withering of

the leaves of transplanted trees, by which large transplanted trees so

{268} frequently perish, is most prevalent in cold damp soils, when

the air is dry and the sun powerful, and evidently results from the

superior vegetation being in advance of the inferior; torpor of the

roots, not torpor of the sap-vessels of the stem from cold. It is also

perfectly evident, that trees with long naked stems will suffer most,

as their leaves are raised higher, more in the current of the drying

wind; their root and top farther asunder, therefore less liable to

contemporaneous impulse; the sap-vessels of the stem longer and more

attenuated, therefore the streams of fluids from the soil, not only

smaller, but also more liable to obstruction, or to flow slowly, from

the insufficiency of the vital impulse, or of endosmose in the wounded

sickly plant to impel to such a height. Our author’s assertion, that

the rough epidermis generally covering the live bark of trees in open

situations, is necessary to the health of the tree, in protecting the

sap-vessels from cold, is, we think, not quite correct. Some time ago

we caused the dead epidermis be hewn down from several trees, in a

rather exposed situation. This was done with considerable nicety, and

extending up along the branches. We remember of one case, of very thick

indurated epidermis, where a carpenter was employed more than a day

in laying bare the live bark of one tree. {269} Instead of suffering

injury by this exposure of the sap-vessels to cold, the trees rather

acquired new vigour from the operation; and the particular tree alluded

to, was unusually luxuriant the season following this flaying, which

was performed in winter. Now, to apply Sir Henry’s analogy of fur of

animals, would an arctic fox have been benefited by exposure to the

winter’s cold in like plight? We also think Sir Henry will find the

trees of dry climates have a much thicker coating of dead bark than in

cold countries, evidently a consequence of desiccation[51], and, if Sir

Henry must have animal analogy—similar to the desiccation and cracking

of the skin of man in arid air. {270}

It is a subject of considerable difficulty to explain the cause of

slender lengthened shoots in sheltered situations, and short stout

shoots in exposed. Sir Henry solves this “excellently well” in two

ways, first, attributing it to shelter and exposure themselves,—“for

shelter is heat, and exposure cold,”—and again, to an instinctive

straining in the sheltered to reach the light, of which its neighbours

deprive it every way but from above, and would do so there too if it

failed to exert itself.

We find that vegetables have long spindling shoots, and wide spaces

between the leaves or buds, when growing in a damp, still, close

atmosphere, especially when the plant is sickly or weak from deficiency

of nourishment, and that this happens equally, whether a trailing

plant being supported aloft throws out depending shoots in opposition

to the current of light; whether a climbing[52] plant runs out

horizontally along a branch or beam at right angles to the light, or

whether a self-supported mounting plant rises in direct opposition

to gravity. No doubt, when the light comes from one direction, {271}

such as the aperture of a window, the plant shoots forth towards the

light, possibly in consequence of the leaves inclining themselves to

receive the ray on their superficies, and thus leading the shoot in

the direction of the light. But this does not prove any straining or

lengthening of the shoot to approach the light; and we ask, what do

general opinion and Sir Henry found their belief upon, of lengthening

growth and straining to approach the light?

Again, with regard to heat, we notice that plants, particularly shoots

from tubers, left to sprout in cold, damp, confined cellars, throw

out very long stems, with wide spaces between the buds or leaves, and

that very long shoots always occur in confined damp air—long in the

ratio of the dampness and confinement, whatever the degree of heat

may be, provided it exceed a little the vegetating point. Also on

the north side of hills, the trees have generally longer stems than

on the sun-ward side, although in the former case, they are exposed

to the northern blast, while in the latter they bask in the sun. Has

the same kind of plant, in lower latitudes, longer spaces between the

leaves than in higher? And if it has not, is the cold, from greater

evaporation, sufficient to balance the superior heat of the climate?

{272}

The above facts must lead, we think, to the conclusion, that

evaporation, or non-evaporation, of the fluids, has, directly, a very

considerable influence in causing a shorter or longer extension of the

shoot between the buds or leaves, and that the influence of the cold

of this evaporation is at most but of a very secondary character. We

would compare the extending rudiments and matter of the young scion to

the slow flowing of a gelatinous fluid. In moist air, the watery part

is slowly evaporated, and the drop extends into a long pendulous form.

In dry air, the water of solution is quickly evaporated, longitudinal

extension ceases, and the pendant is thicker and shorter. The cold of

evaporation may a little affect the fluidity, but only in a very small

degree[53].

The causes of the elongation of vegetables are, {273} however, not

very plain. We have noticed, that the deeper the seed is placed in

the ground, the braird rises the higher above ground, even when the

seeds at the different depths have been equally moist. This might

admit of explanation, but having already occupied too much space with

this subject, we shall only remark further, that in close woods, the

trees elongate, because they are precluded from extending laterally.

The top buds, from receiving more of the stimulating or nourishing

influence of the dew, sun’s rays, fresh unvitiated air, invigorating

motion of the winds, and perhaps of electricity[54], {274} throw out a

greater continuation of shoot than the under branches; nearly the whole

nourishment from the soil being on this account drawn up and consumed

by these top shoots, and the lower overshadowed twigs and branches

languishing and dying from the absence of these advantages. Besides

this extension of top shoots, by the greater continuation of leaves,

or links of life, occasioned by the above causes, these shoots, owing

to the moist atmosphere of the wood, also push out into longer spaces

between the leaves. However, these top branches do not push sun-ward,

but merely in opposition to gravity.

Sir Henry states, that “trees certainly possess some heat, otherwise

they would be killed during severe frosts.” Our belief of the vital

heat of vegetables is placed on a much better foundation than {275}

this _otherwise_; otherwise our credence would be far from philosophic.

Freezing cold affects many vegetables as well as some of the lower

animals, only by mechanical injury, in rending the vessels by means of

the expansion of the contained fluid. Now, if these vessels are not

quite full of fluid, if the fluid be of such a nature as not to congeal

into greater size, or if the body be small, and the vessels elastic, to

yield to expansion without fracture—the vegetable or animal will often

resume vitality, on being thawed from thorough congelation. We have

rendered potatoes, turnips, and fruits, frost-proof, at least unless

the frost was intense, by a slight desiccation caused by exposing them

a short time to the air after being taken from the ground or tree[55].

In the cases where fishes and reptiles have been found {276} frozen so

hard as to require a hatchet to dissect them, and reviving on thawing,

it will be found that the fluids were principally oleaginous, which

do not expand in congealing; and in the case of insects being frozen

in masses during the night, and resuming their liveliness next day in

the sun, we think, if their fluids have congealed at all, that either

the vessels must have yielded, being elastic (which might more likely

take place in a small body, without general fracture and derangement),

or that the fluids had not extended by being congealed; but it is very

probable, though frozen together in a mass of water and mud, that their

fluids, from being of an acid nature, had resisted the congelation.

With regard to trees, we have heard that intense frost often splits

the trunks of some of our indigenous kinds by congelation[56]; but

these trees retain vitality, and only suffer from the consequences

which may ensue from the fissures. We have seen evergreens, plants

from milder climates, and trees which had not thoroughly ripened their

{277} wood (that is, retained the vessels full of moisture), injured

in the extremities, and even killed throughout by cold. But this does

not prove that these had any vegetable heat, any more than those which

suffered no injury from the same degree of cold, prove that they had

vegetable heat. The juices of some kinds of plants do not congeal at

the same point of temperature as others. The vessels of some in winter

are not so much distended with fluids as others; and probably the vital

principle of some is less susceptible of injury from cold than others.

These facts may account for the endurance of intense cold by some kinds

of trees, independent of vegetable heat.

Our author, speaking of the transplanting of fruit trees, states, that

“any gardener could have predicted the probability of fruit during the

first season, together with the certainty during the second of its not

taking place.” Our gardeners will be moonstruck at having the gift

of prophecy attributed to them, at least to predict in such a way.

We have thought Sir Henry sufficiently ready to impute ignorance to

gardeners before we came to this remark; but to represent a useful and

intelligent class of men in so ludicrous a light, is certainly using a

very improper liberty. {278}

Every gardener is aware that trees will fruit the first season after

transplanting, just if they have had the rudiments of the fruit formed

in the bud before transplanting, and should the blossom not be injured

by severe weather. Every gardener is aware, though Sir Henry seems not,

that all fruit trees, of any size, form these rudiments the season

after transplanting, and that they invariably fruit the second season,

if the season suit the fruiting of the kind; and every gardener of

any experience is capable, even without Sir Henry’s instructions, of

removing a fruit tree of considerable size, without injuring it so

severely as to prevent it fruiting both first and second season, which

it will do, and even mature fine fruit both years, though during the

first, under very unfavourable circumstances, it should scarcely be

able to develope leaves 1-5th of the usual size, and though these

leaves wither and drop off long before the summer is ended, while the

fruit remains to ripen on the tree. This is _a direct consequence

of evaporation_. The thin leaves shrivel up in the ardent sun from

evaporation and want of sufficient supply by root-suction; and the

bulbs of the fruit, from their massiveness, contain sufficient moisture

to resist withering till the night, when they drink the dews, and

suck up some little moisture from the roots, undiminished {279} by

evaporation in the transit, to replenish the daily loss.

Sir Henry remarks, that “no man who knows any thing of wood, will put

down the oak or the elm on light sand or gravel, as it is only on deep

loam and clay that the oak, in particular, will really thrive and

grow into timber.” No man who knows _how much a suitable soil for any

kind of plant is under regulation of the moistness or dryness of the

atmosphere, and other circumstances_, will refrain from smiling at Sir

Henry’s very superficial acquaintance with his own subject, and at

the manner he thus again brings forward mankind to testify in support

of his own error. Our author will place the above quotation among the

errata should he take a ride up Strath-Tay from Birnam to Kenmore.

Among other items of expense given by our author, none of which seem

to be overstated, we feel grateful for the information, that compost

manure of lime, farm-yard dung, and moss, can be obtained, compounded,

fermented, conveyed and applied, at the rate of 6d. and 9d. per single

and double load!

Sir Henry makes good his assertion, that slow grown timber is always

stronger, denser, and more durable than fast grown, by a cloud of

witnesses,—every forester, gardener, and carpenter of the {280}

country, is ready to attest it of course! There are few sublunary

matters which admit of evidence more conclusive. We quote his account

of this uniform “law of nature.”

“The same general law operates in a similar way on all woody plants,

but of course less rapidly, owing to the less rapid growth of

trees, from the lowest bush to the oak of the forest. In all these,

the culture of the soil tends to _accelerate vegetation_, and by

consequence to _expand the fibre of the wood_. It necessarily renders

it softer, less solid, and more liable to suffer by the action of the

elements. Let us shortly give a few examples of the uniform effect of

this law of nature.

“Every forester is aware how greatly easier it is to cut over thorns

or furze that are trained in hedges, than such as grow naturally wild,

and are exempt from culture. Gardeners experience the same thing in

pruning or cutting over fruit trees or shrubs; and, the difference of

the texture of the raspberry in its wild and in its cultivated state,

is as remarkable; for although the stem in the latter state is nearly

double the thickness of that in the former, it is much more easily

cut. On comparing the common crab, the father of our orchards, with

the cultivated {281} apple, the greater softness of the wood of the

latter will be found no less striking to every arboriculturist.

“Further, the common oak in Italy and Spain, where it grows faster

than in Britain, is ascertained to be of shorter duration in those

countries. In the same way, the oak in the Highland districts of

Scotland or Wales, is of a much harder and closer grain, and therefore

more durable, than what is found in England; though in such mountains

it seldom rises to the fifth part, or less, of the English tree. Every

carpenter in Scotland knows the extraordinary difference between the

durability of Highland oak and oak usually imported from England, for

the spokes of wheels. Every extensive timber-dealer is aware of the

superior hardness of oak raised in Cumberland and Yorkshire, over that

of Monmouthshire and Herefordshire; and such a dealer in selecting

trees in the _same_ woods, in _any_ district, will always give the

preference to oak of slow growth, and found in cold and clayey soils,

and to ash on rocky cliffs, which he knows to be the soils and

climates natural to both. If he take a cubic foot of park-oak, and

another of forest-oak, and weigh the one against the other (or if

he do the like {282} with ash and elm of the same description), the

latter will uniformly turn out the heavier of the two.”

It is certainly the case, that luxuriant growth increases the size

of the sap-vessels and cells, but with this increase of size, there

is often a proportional increase of thickness of the sides of these

vessels and cells, and a greater than proportional filling up of dense

matter, as the alburnum is better ripened in autumn, or as the mature

wood, especially of hard wood in dry situations, ripens more slowly in

the course of years. There is also in many kinds more of close tissue

and cellular part, in proportion to large sap-vessels, when the tree

is growing vigorously than when it is stunted. (See the facts in our

notice of Withers, p. 199.) _Thence culture does not necessarily render

the timber softer, less solid, and more liable to suffer by the action

of the elements._ We are really angry with those smooth-tongued rogues

who “fool us to the top of our bent.” _Every artificer_ who has worked

slow grown ash of considerable age, that is, when most of the timber

has been deposited after the tree has been seeding strongly, _assures

us_ that the timber is very inferior, in all respects, to that of

quicker growth. {283}

We consider the forester who has observed that thorns or furze trained

in hedges are much easier cut from softness of timber than when growing

in detached bushes, a much better observer than ourselves; and we

would inquire whether he were certain that the greater efficiency

of his blows was not owing to their being better directed, from the

conveniency of access, owing to the training up, than from the timber

being softer? The example of the raspberry we consider very irrelevant,

it being only a semi-herbaceous plant of biennial stem.

Gardeners certainly experience the branches and roots of crab-apple

to be harder than the varieties with thicker bark, larger more downy

leaves, and larger fruit. The largest growing apple varieties, however,

are not the above mentioned mild varieties, but those which have a

pretty close approximation to the crab. We have taken slips from some

of the very largest of our pear-trees, and having placed them close

to the ground on young stocks, have found they threw out spines and

rectangular branching similar to crabs. Those most dissimilar to

the crab have thick annual shoots, without any lateral rectangular

branching, and very thick bark; they have been gradually bred to this

condition by repeated sowing, always choosing the seed of those {284}

partaking most of these qualities for resowing, their disposition to

vary to mildness being at the same time influenced in some measure

by culture and abundant moist nourishment; but these mild varieties,

although they throw out a strong annual shoot while young, seldom or

never reach to any considerable size of tree, unless they are nourished

by crab roots, their own roots being soft and fleshy, and incapable of

foraging at much depth or distance. Their branches and twigs as they

get old, are also very soft and friable, covered with a thick bark,

but the timber of the stem is very little inferior in hardness to crab

timber.

We ask, if even the fact of these unnaturally tender varieties

(obtained by long-continued selection, probably assisted by culture,

soil and climate, and which, without the cherishing of man, would soon

disappear), being of rather more porous texture of wood, goes any

length to prove our author’s assertion? We have paid some attention to

the fibre of the genus Pyrus, and find that the Siberian crabs have

by far the smallest vessels. Having grafted the large Fulwood upon

the smallest Red Siberian Crab, or Cherry-apple, the new wood layers

above the junction swelled to triple the thickness of those below. By

ingrafting other kinds upon other {285} stocks, we have found the

reverse to take place, no doubt owing to those with largest vessels

swelling the most, there being the same number of vessels above and

below the junction, each corresponding, or being a continuation of the

other[57]. But this small Siberian crab, when ingrafted upon a common

crab, grew fully as quickly during several years as the Fulwood under

the same circumstances; and the timber, though of much finer texture,

scarcely exceeded the other in hardness. Sir Henry tells us, that the

oak is less durable in Italy and Spain than in England[58]. We tell

Sir Henry, that the red-wood pitch-pine from Georgia and the Floridas,

on the confines of the torrid zone, is more durable than the red-wood

pine from Archangel, on the confines of the frigid zone. But does this

fact {286} regarding the oak of the south of Europe, prove any thing

regarding the oak of England,—that it will always he deteriorated by

culture for several years after planting, or that the quality may not

suffer as much from slowness of growth as from fastness, or from the

climate being too cold as from being too warm?

The reason why Highland Scots oak spokes are superior to English, is,

because the latter are generally split from out the refuse of the

timber cut for naval purposes,—principally _the branches and tops_ of

large trees; whereas, those from the Highlands of Scotland are from

_the root cuts_ of copse. We believe most carpenters of Scotland are

aware of this. The oak from the Highlands of Scotland is, however, for

the most part, of excellent quality, growing generally on _dry gravel

and rock_, not on cold moist _clayey soils_. The hardest we have ever

seen was from a steep, dry gravel bank, of south exposure, in an open

situation, much exposed to the western breeze. The Highland oak from

these soils is generally of a greyish colour, and very dense; whereas

that from moist soils is often reddish-brown, and defective. Should Sir

Henry weigh portions of oak from these soils in a pair of material,

in place of mental scales, we think his conclusions would be {287}

somewhat different.—The strongest, hardest ash we have seen, was cut

from a hard, dry, adhesive clay, of course a young tree.

Sir Henry, speaking of the Western Highlands and Islands of Scotland,

states that “it is from a want of soil, and not of climate, that woods

of any given extent cannot be got up in these unsheltered, but romantic

situations.” Of many situations of these bleak districts, this must

be admitted, but we cannot receive it as a general fact; and even

where it holds true, the want of (proper) soil, or formation of peat,

is a _consequence_ of the want of climate, although _this_ may have

reacted to increase the evil. There must have been a greater warmth of

climate, at least in summer, when the forests grew, which lie buried

in the mosses of the northern part of Scotland, and of the Orkney and

Shetland Islands, as some kinds of timber are found in situations

where such kinds, by no circumstances of gradual shelter under the

present climate, could have grown. There are several indications of

a greater warmth having been general throughout Britain, and even

farther eastward, and that a slight refrigeration is still in progress.

We instance the once numerous vineyards of England,—the vestiges of

aration so numerous upon many of our hills, where it would now be

considered fruitless to attempt raising grain, even {288} with the

assistance of modern science; and the report that the Caspian is

gradually overflowing her shores, a probable consequence of diminished

evaporation from decrease of heat.

That this is not wholly owing to the moisture and cold consequent to

the moss formation, or to any cover or want of cover to the earth, of

timber, or of any other plants which might possibly have effect upon

the temperature by shade, evolution of vegetable heat, electric or

meteoric agency, we think proved, should the asserted fact be correct,

that, in the small _oes_ of Shetland, (so distant from any considerable

portion of land as not to be under these influences, and so small, that

the climate must be solely dependant upon the sea), timber is found

in the morasses, although the climate will not now admit of timber

growing, being apparently equally deteriorated as that of the Mainland.

It is not improbable that the superior former climate of the North of

Scotland and Islands was owing to their having formed, at one time, an

extensive country, perhaps joined to the continent, and thus partaking

of the continental climate, that is, having a colder winter and

warmer summer, capable of producing considerable vigour of arboreous

vegetation, and not so favourable to the generating of that fixed

vegetable incubus, peat-moss, who has crept over, and folded {289}

in her chill embrace, the once fair districts of northern Scotland.

The fogs and more steady low temperature of insular situation, which

now prevail, not only induce that chemical change in dead and dying

vegetables which forms peat-moss, and preserves this moss from decay,

but also being too cool for the vegetation of the gramineæ, &c. tend

only to promote the general spread of sphagni and other moss-generating

plants, which, again, are almost the only plants that can vegetate on

acrid moss-flow, as they draw little or nothing from below, and are

nourished directly by the moisture and other fluids of the atmosphere.

Our eastern shore affords sufficient proof that the ocean has both

receded and advanced recently—at least recently in comparison with

the great changes which have occurred to modify the surface of the

earth. In proof of this recession, we have the upper _carses_, or

deltas, visible in every firth or creek where a river falls into the

German Sea. These carses, on the firths in Ross-shire, at Dun near

Montrose, around the upper end of the Firths of Tay and Forth, are all

of nearly equal level, about 20 feet above the highest stream-tides.

The gravel bar at Montrose is considerably above the present sea-level.

A number of caves exist on this {290} eastern coast, evidently worn

into the rock by the action of the sea at the height where the waves

have broken. These caves have nearly one level, corresponding in

height with that of the carses. There are also many places where the

coast has been shorn away by the action of the waves, and a shelf of

rocks left extending out some hundred paces. This abrasion, which

takes place nearly at, or a little above, low water-mark, is effected

by innumerable hard pebbles (the most indurated parts of the rocks

which give way being converted into battering material for further

reduction), being upborne and dashed against the rock by the continuous

heaving and lashing of the waves. Wherever any breach commences from

the feebler opposition of any softer part, the action of the waves and

battering train proceeds with increased impetus and concentration,

especially if the breach be wedge-shaped narrowing inward, thence caves

of considerable extent are hallowed out. The rocks thus abraded and

undermined, tumble down and are ground into sand, which is swept by the

tides and motion of the waters into the depths of the ocean, or borne

along to the upper end of the bays, or to some part of the coast where

more sluggish lateral tides, and particular motion of the waves leave

it and throw it ashore to be blown up into {291} downs. There are some

former islands which have been altogether shorn down to this sea-level,

of which the Bell-Rock, extending nearly a mile of shelf, affords a

well known specimen. In many places of the coast, these shelves accord

with the superior former level of the sea, and with the floors of the

caves.

In proof of the sea having advanced upon the land, there are vestiges

of submerged forests (the stumps of the trees standing erect where

they grew, at or a little above the present lowest ebb) existing at

different places on the eastern coast, both of England and Scotland,

and these vestiges standing upon a former carse or alluvium of the

rivers, are visible in the same firths with the upper level of carse,

of course generally more to seaward than these higher carses, as

deposition of rivers occurs at what may be termed deposition point,

that is where the rivers, from the stemming of the sea-water, begin

to widen—where the firths commence; and the slowness of the motion of

the water gives time for the subsidence of the floated mud. By reason

of the flux and reflux of the tide into the mouths of rivers, this

deposition takes place only at or near high water, that is, when the

strength of the inward tide-flux ceases, and before that of the reflux

begins. It is {292} most abundant at the windward shore, or where

there is least surf, and among the tall gramina and other vegetation

where there is least undulation and current; the deposition which

occurs at this time, some distance below high water level, is floated

away by the current of the following flux and reflux, unless some

object afford a nucleus of formation. Hence deltas or carses usually

form near the shore of firths, generally soon rise to high-water level,

and have often steep, or even abrupt, banks, collecting at one place,

and giving way before the waves and undermining current at another.

There is a deposition of another kind than river diluvium, which also

takes place at the bottom, or further end, of bays and firths, and is

sometimes mixed with the preceding: This consists, as mentioned above,

of the abrasion of the rocks, or shores of the bay and neighbouring

coast, and also of molluscous exuviæ, borne along by the motion of the

waters; but this is generally rather an accumulation than a deposition,

occurring in greatest quantity where a heavy swell rolls dead in.

Although we have pretty accurate proof that the present elevation of

the German Sea has remained nearly steady for several hundred years,

yet our new formation of carse, at the present high-water level, {293}

bears a small proportion to the extent of the upper carse; from which

may be inferred, either that the sea has remained a shorter time at the

present level, or that some general cause has more recently operated

to diminish the deposition, such as inferiority of present climate not

producing so much littoral vegetation,—tides or higher winds preventing

subsidence by greater undulation or current, till the diffused mud

be carried out to sea[59]. The junction of the higher and present

sea-level carses, abrupt and always definite, that is, not gradually

declining from the one to the other, would seem to indicate a quick

subsiding of the sea, or rising of the land, such as has been known

to result from subterraneous derangement. The very accurate level of

these carses proves, that this portion of the world has remained a very

long time pretty free from these disturbances, recently so prevalent

in some other quarters; and if the change of sea-level has been owing

to such disturbance, it follows, from the extent and regularity of

the upheaving or subsidence, that the cause must have been very deep

seated, or of great magnitude.

We begin to think, from our disposition to ramble from the Allanton

system, that we tire of Sir {294} Henry; and we believe, should

_he_ follow us thus far, that he will be tired of us. On looking

back on what we have written, we are almost disposed to accuse

ourselves of being splenetic; but the truth is, we regard the whole

art as very unimportant, if not positively pernicious, at least in

the way in which it has been exemplified by Sir Henry, as a throwing

away of valuable labour to no purpose, if it ought not indeed to be

considered as a mere pander to luxury and caprice. We have no sympathy

with the aristocratical object of the book, and as little with the

aristocratical tone in which it has been bepraised by Sir Walter

Scott. We should also have no greater pleasure in the discovery of a

royal road to virtue than we should have to the discovery of one to

science,—the four cardinal virtues being, as every body knows, writing

books, building houses, and raising trees and children, but we should

hope, neither by proxy, nor by the _Allanton System_. While, however,

we thus state our opinions with freedom, we do not hesitate to add,

that Sir Henry’s volume has afforded us more information, or, at least,

more materials for reflection, than any other of the works which we

have brought under the notice of our readers. {295}

* * * * *

We shall finish our remarks on Sir Henry’s work, by making some

observations upon a quotation made by Sir Henry Steuart, from “A

Treatise on the Forming and Improving of Country Residences,” by the

Author of the Encyclopædia of Gardening, &c.—an author, who combines

talent, successful industry, and enlightened benevolence, in no common

degree. We are sorry to appear before this author, whom we have long

esteemed, in opposition; yet we regret the less, as we consider him one

of the few who prefer accuracy and truth to an old opinion, and whose

name stands too high to be affected by a casual misconception.

“The general effects of pruning,” says this author, as quoted by Sir

Henry Steuart, “is of a corresponding nature with culture, that is,

to increase the quantity of timber-produce: the particular manner

in which it does this is by directing the greater part of the sap,

which generally spreads itself into side branches, into the principal

stem. This must consequently enlarge the stem in a more than ordinary

degree, by increasing the annual circles of the wood. Now, if the tree

be _in a worse soil and climate than those which are natural to it,

this will be of some advantage_, as the extra increase of {296} timber

will still be of a quality _not inferior_ to what would take place in

its natural state; or, in other words, it will correspond with that

degree of quality and quantity of timber, which the nature and species

of the tree admit of being produced. If the tree be in its natural

state, the annual increase of timber occasioned by pruning, must

necessarily _injure its quality_ in a degree corresponding with the

increased quantity. If the tree be in a better climate and soil than

that which is natural to it, and at the same time the annual increase

of wood be promoted by pruning, it is evident that such wood must be

of _a very different quality_ from that produced in its natural state

(that is _very inferior_).”—“_Whatever tends to increase the wood

in a greater degree than what is natural to the species when in its

natural state, must injure the quality of the timber._ Pruning tends

to increase this in a considerable degree, and therefore it must be

a _pernicious practice_.”—“Mr Knight has shown, in a very striking

manner, that timber is produced, or rather that the alburnum or

sap-wood is rendered ligneous, by the motion of the tree, during the

descent of the tree (or proper) sap. It is also sufficiently known,

that the solid texture of the wood greatly depends upon the quantity

of sap which must necessarily {297} descend, and also on the slowness

of the descent. Now, both these requisites are materially increased

by side-branches, which retain a large quantity of sap, and, by their

junction with the stem, occasion a contraction and twisted direction

of the vessels, which obstructs the progress of the (proper) sap. Of

maple and birch, those trees which have fewest side-branches bleed

more freely than the other, but during a much shorter space of time.

These hints, therefore, afford additional evidence against pruning,

and particularly against pruning fir trees, which, as Mr Knight justly

observes, have larger vessels than the others, and therefore, when in

an improved soil and climate, side-branches for the purposes above

mentioned are essentially necessary to them, if solid, resinous, and

durable timber be the object in view.

“From the foregoing remarks, I think the following conclusions may be

drawn.

“First, That trees should be planted as much as possible in soils,

situations, and climates, _analogous to those of their natural

state_; and that it is chiefly in this state, or when there are some

defects relative to it, that pruning or culture can be exercised with

advantage. {298}

“Secondly, That in proportion to the superiority of the soil, &c. in

which trees are placed, over the natural soil of these trees, in the

same proportion pruning and cultivating the soil ought to be avoided,

and thinning encouraged.

“Thirdly, That particular regard should be had to the soil and

situation, where either larches, or any other of the pine tribe,

are planted, to remain as the final crop. For as the roots of these

chiefly run along the surface, and as in them the great current

of the sap is chiefly confined to one channel, that is the trunk,

consequently that tribe of trees is peculiarly liable to injury and

change, when subjected to unnatural agency.

“Fourthly, That the only way in which oak timber of safe quality can

be provided for the British navy, is by enclosing, preserving from

cattle, and properly managing, those royal forests where oak is the

natural produce of the soil. (Alas! there is reason to fear, that on

some future day the neglect of this advice will be regretted). Park

oak is very frequently much inferior to _forest oak_ in durability.”

We differ from the author of the Encyclopædia of Gardening here,

even _in limine_, in his {299} assumption, that pruning is of a

corresponding nature with culture, in increasing the annual circles of

the wood[60]. Culture, if judiciously executed, increases these annual

circles; but common pruning up (which, from the general bearing of the

language, we suppose is meant), nine times out of ten diminishes them,

and merely tends to extend the stem in length, by throwing all the new

formation of branches to the top of the tree, in place of partly to the

sides. Thence the tree acquires a slenderer figure, and more delicate

constitution; and from greater height, and being without cover of

side-branches, loses more by evaporation, and receives less moisture

from the ground, which is dried by the breeze passing along under the

branches; the principal process of vegetation, assimilation by the

leaves, being reduced by the pruning, and carried on at an unnatural

height, in a colder less genial atmosphere, under a diminished supply

of nourishment from the ground, is consequently less productive of

new assimilized {300} matter; and this smaller quantity requiring

to be extended along a greater length of stem, the annual rings are

necessarily thinner.

We admit that a tree becomes more _stemmy_ by being repeatedly pruned

up;—we admit, that, on removal of the lower branches, the upper part

of the stem may have, for a few seasons, larger annual circles; but

the annual circles will be diminished in thickness in a much greater

proportion on the lower part of the stem;—we admit, that the timber,

from being deposited in a clean lengthened cylinder, becomes far more

useful, there being less redundant matter than when scattered out

into _stemmy_ branches, to which disposition, trees in open situation

sometimes incline, especially if not transplanted very young, but

to which they are nevertheless much more disposed under the common

mode of pruning in an early stage of their growth, than when left to

themselves;—we admit, that trees, by pruning, raised to lengthened

stem, and thence performing less assimilation, partly compensate for

this less assimilation, for some time, by making more stem deposit

in proportion to the other deposit, which extends the parts more

immediately necessary to new formation,—the roots and twigs; but

the deficiency of productory parts soon {301} reacts to diminish

the amount of _all_ the new products. In tall trees, this greater

deposition on the stem, in proportion to that on the roots, twigs, and

leaves, some will think instinctive; some will refer it to an effort of

nature to supply the necessary strength to enable the stem to resist

the great strain of the winds upon the elevated top. If it take place

to a greater extent than what arises from the greater elongation of

the necessary vessels of communication, perhaps it is owing to the

evaporation or stagnation of the sap on the tall exposed stem, and

to the considerable motion or waving of the stem by wind promoting

deposition, evincing one of the deep balancings of material cause

and effect, or circumstantial regulation, which mocks the wisdom of

the wise. We admit, also, that pruning, in the first place, impedes

formation of flower-buds, and will sometimes thus prevent exhaustion

of trees by seeding, which is so prejudicial both to the quality

and quantity of the new wood deposit; but the consequent greater

length of stem, greater exposure to evaporation, constriction of

bark, and slenderer connecting tubes between leaf and roots, all tend

subsequently to promote formation of flower-buds, although the removal

of the lower branches may for a few seasons serve to {302} prevent

this. We therefore consider pruning, excepting in a very slight degree,

to guide to one leader, and to remove the sickly, lower, moss-covered

branches a few seasons earlier than they would have dropped off in

the common course of decay, to be generally preventive of quantity of

wood-deposit, even of common marketable timber, in any considerable

number of years, although pruning to a greater degree is often

necessary where fine clean timber is required.

Our author’s next implied assumption, that a tree produces best timber

in a soil and climate _natural_ to it (we suppose by this is meant the

soil and climate where the kind of tree is naturally found growing),

is, we think, at least exceedingly hypothetical; and, judging from our

facts, incorrect. The natural soil and climate of a tree, is often

very far from being the soil and climate most suited to its growth,

_and is only the situation where it has greater power of occupancy,

than any other plant whose germ is present_. The pines do not cover

the pine barrens of America, because they prefer such soil, or grow

most luxuriant in such soil; they would thrive much better, that is,

grow faster, in the natural allotment of the oak and the walnut, _and

also mature to a better wood in this deeper richer soil_. But the {303}

oak and the walnut banish them to inferior soil from greater power

of occupancy in good soil, as the pines, in their turn, banish other

plants from inferior sands—some to still more sterile location, by the

same means of greater powers of occupancy in these sands. One cause

considerably affecting the natural location of certain kinds of plants

is, that only certain soils are suited to the preservation of certain

seeds, throughout the winter or wet season. Thus many plants, different

from those which naturally occupy the soil, would feel themselves at

home, and would beat off intruders, were they once seated. We have had

indubitable proof in this country, that _Scots fir, grown upon good

deep loam, and strong till_ (what our author would call the natural

soil of the oak), _is of much better quality, and more resinous, than

fir grown on poor sand_ (what he would call the natural soil of the

Scots fir), although of more rapid growth on the loam than on the sand;

and the best Scots fir we have ever seen, of equal age and quickness of

growth, is growing upon Carse land (clayey alluvium).

The reason that Scots fir is of better quality, and more resinous, on

good loam and moist till, than on poor siliceous ground, may probably

be, that the loam contains more oleaginous matter, and other {304}

vegetable products which bear a near relation to resinous, and which,

transmitted upwards from the roots, may occasion richer assimilated

juices. Men fed upon whale or seal blubber, if the digestion is good,

have much fatty deposit upon the body, and the perspired fluid is oil.

It is a fact well known to every intelligent farmer, that _infield_ or

_croft_ land, that is land, which, having been earliest cultivated,

was, of course, the best soil at first, and which has also been long

highly manured at the cost of the _outfield_, and therefore containing

much oleaginous and other matter, products of organization, produces

grasses and other vegetables much more nutritive to cattle than the

_outfield_, even though these vegetables be of the same species, and

by reason of more careful culture of those of the _outfield_, also of

the same size of plant. We have also considered that light, poor sandy

soil, which throws up a considerable flush of vegetation in the spring,

partly because it has then sufficient moisture, but which almost

entirely gives over producing throughout the latter part of the summer,

partly because the winter’s moisture is exhausted, may throw out the

frame or skeleton of a considerable growth, or annual layer of wood,

in the early part of the season, but may not afford sufficient matter

for the filling up or {305} maturing the layer into good dense timber

later in the season, when the assimilated fluid or sap is believed to

descend.

Our author states, that the timber of pruned trees must be inferior

to that of trees with many side-branches, because the consequent

contracting and twisting of the vessels as they pass the junction of

the branches and stem, obstruct the descent of the sap, thence the

timber is better matured, and in firs has more of resinous deposit. We

admit that the resinous deposition is more abundant in knots and in

some of the parts adjacent; but the timber is not better throughout.

Worm-eating may be observed to commence generally in the neighbourhood

of knots. Although one part of the wood, in consequence of the

obstruction of the knot, be more dense and resinous, another part,

immediately above or below the knot, where the growths are extended to

fill up the vacant space, where the worming commences, is less dense,

and of inferior durability, and corruption begun, extends. The knotted

timber, of course, is very inferior in strength and value to the clean.

We would refer the longer continued flow of sap from maple and birches,

which have many side-branches, in part, to the lower or side-branches

commencing to vegetate sooner in the {306} spring than the top of

the tree; this successive commencement of vegetation prolonging the

bleeding.

Again, in larch, we find that by far the hardest and most durable wood

is grown upon poor, hard, thin tills (that is, thin of vegetable mould

upon the diluvium), even where the root-rot commences about thirty

years of age. Now, we ask, is this the natural soil of larches? We have

not, however, found larch from rich loam, of better quality than from

poor sand, as we have observed in Scots fir. We also consider larch,

grown on a proper larch soil—on sound soil and subsoil, or sound rock,

common in acclivous situation—superior in quality to larch of equal

quickness of growth, raised on rich loam or sand, though not equal to

larch of slow growth from the above mentioned poor tills.

We would ask how our author is enabled to assume, as an axiom, that

trees produce the best timber in their natural locality? We would also

desire some _rational_ information to shew in what manner pruning

up can in any way conduce generally, to the increase of the timber,

or to the enlargement of one-stemmed vegetables. A tree naturally

rises in one stem. It throws out its branches in the disposition most

favourable to draw the fullest benefit from the light and air. It of

its own {307} accord (that is when man does not meddle), gradually

raises its pyramidal centre, with proportional lateral spread, as high

as is befitting, for the fullest expansion of the individual, under

the circumstances of its location. Man may mar this beautiful natural

balance easier than decypher the proximate cause he may throw the

new deposit of wood in greater proportion upon the upper part of the

stem, rendering his beam more suitable from equality of thickness,

and particularly in pines, of cleaner, smaller growthed, more durable

timber, thence more valuable. But the tree will neither produce the

same quantity of measurable timber in a considerable number of years,

nor will it ultimately reach to nearly the same size, nor continue life

nearly so long, as when left to itself. Man’s interference is useful

in removing competitors, in giving it lateral room for extension,

in _training_ it skilfully to one leader and subordinate equality

of feeders, should transplanting, early pruning up, or other cause,

destroy the natural regular pyramidal disposition—not in pruning it up,

thus reducing it to narrower compass, and destroying its balance to the

locality.

The use of the infinite seedling varieties in the families of plants,

even in those in a state of nature, differing in luxuriance of growth

and local adaptation, {308} seems to be to give one individual (the

strongest best circumstance-suited) superiority over others of its kind

around, that it may, by overtopping and smothering them, procure room

for full extension, and thus affording, at the same time, a continual

selection of the strongest, best circumstance-suited, for reproduction.

Man’s interference, by preventing this natural process of selection

among plants, independent of the wider range of circumstances to

which he introduces them, has increased the difference in varieties,

particularly in the more domesticated kinds; and even in man himself,

the greater uniformity, and more general vigour among savage tribes,

is referrible to nearly similar selecting law—the weaker individual

sinking under the ill treatment of the stronger, or under the common

hardship.

As our author’s premises thus appear neither self-evident, nor

supported by facts, it might seem unfair, at least it would be

superfluous, to proceed to the consideration of his conclusions and

corollaries. {309}

VII. CRUICKSHANK’S PRACTICAL PLANTER.

After the preceding parts of this volume had gone to press, we received

a copy of Cruickshank’s Practical Planter. We endeavour to give a short

view of the contents.

The author commences with some general remarks on the expediency and

profit of laying uncultivated ground under timber, stating, rather too

strongly, the very superior income derivable from forest than from

heathy moors, and its advantages to the soil. No doubt, a great portion

of the higher and more rocky part of Scotland is susceptible of little

other improvement than planting; and, under timber, would produce more

than ten times the income that it does in pasture; and the patriotic

motive of embellishing his country, and enriching his countrymen, may

excuse his having drawn the advantages of planting in rather high

colours. Mr Cruickshank’s statement (as he says, designedly kept rather

below the truth), that an acre of moor, of average quality, covered

with Scotch fir, sixty years {310} planted, would contain 600 trees,

value 10s. each, differs considerably from what has come within our

experience. The timber of an acre of Scotch fir, sixty years planted in

such waste ground as occurs in the valley of the Tay, will not average

much more than one hundred pounds per acre on the spot, and laid down

on the quay at Newcastle (the place to which the greater part of the

Scotch fir on the east of Scotland is carried), would not produce L.

300 per acre.

In order the more to encourage planting, Mr Cruickshank runs into a

speculative statement of the fertilizing influence of planting upon

the soil, in rather a novel manner, leaving out the particular facts,

which, he says, had come under his own observation, and adducing one

as proof, furnished to him by another person unnamed. We have often

had occasion to see ground, which had produced a crop of firs, brought

under tillage without any marked fertility beyond the adjacent fields

which had been under proper rotation of cropping, certainly inferior

to what had lain for the same length of time in natural grass pasture.

There is a particular instance in a slight rising ground (diluvial

soil) in the Carse of Gowrie, where the fields, since the rooting out

of the fir-wood, have not paid seed and labour in corn, though {311}

under regular manuring and rotation. There are even varieties of pine,

such as the loblolly, which are known to have an influence upon the

soil where they grow poisonous to succeeding crops. Mr Cruickshank

himself adverts several times to ground which had produced a crop of

timber, being _boss_ (hollow) from the roots remaining in the soil,

and owing to this hollowness being unsuited for replanting till the

roots were removed or consumed. We do not very well comprehend this

hollowness, and ascribe the unsuitableness for replanting immediately,

rather to exhaustion, or to the formation of something inimical to

vegetation, than to any hollowness or manner of arrangement of the soil.

As the causes which promote or retard the formation, or which tend to

dissipate the earth’s covering of vegetable mould—a covering, on the

richness or thickness of which the fertility of ground, as well for

most kinds of naval timber as for other products, is so much dependent,

though of the greatest importance—have never, that we are aware of,

been generally brought into view, we shall devote some space to their

consideration.

In the first place, to give a fair specimen of our author, we shall

transcribe several pages where he {312} has treated this subject with

some ingenuity, and on which he appears to have bestowed considerable

care.

“Those who have never had an opportunity of seeing old woodlands

brought into cultivation, will scarce credit what has now been

advanced, that the soil should be enriched by the production of wood,

when the experience of ages has proved that it is always exhausted by

other crops.”—“Trees draw their nourishment from a much greater depth

than any of the grasses, roots, or different kinds of grain raised

by the agriculturist. Most of the latter derive the whole of their

subsistence from the part of the soil that lies within a few inches of

the surface; but the former, from the superior strength and magnitude

of their roots, are enabled to penetrate much farther, and extract

food from the very rock which forms the substratum of a great portion,

both of our cultivated and uncultivated grounds. This, though it does

not account for lands being positively enriched by wood, makes it, at

the same time, far less surprizing that trees should grow to a large

size, and yet not exhaust the upper part of the soil in so great a

degree as most of the crops cultivated by the farmer.

“There is another circumstance which gives ground in wood a great

advantage over that in {313} tillage, which is, that the leaves of

the trees are suffered to decay and rot where they fall, and, by

this means, an annual addition is made to the depth of the vegetable

mould. Now, the leaves of a tree may be considered as bearing the same

proportion to the trunk and branches, in respect to the nourishment

which they require, as the straw of corn bears to the grain. But the

manure which cultivated land receives, is, in general, little more

than the straw which grows on it after it has served for food or

litter to cattle. Ground in wood, then, actually receives, in the

annual fall of the leaves, as much enrichment as the farmer bestows on

his land under tillage.

“Ground employed in agriculture is exposed at almost every season of

the year to the full action of the atmosphere; and in the drought and

heat of summer, much of its strength is evaporated. In land covered

with wood, the case is entirely different, as from the shade afforded

by the leaves and branches, very little evaporation takes place.

This, then, is another reason that serves in some measure, at least,

to explain the seemingly paradoxical fact in question. For, that

evaporation has a very powerful tendency to exhaust land, by drawing

off and dissipating the more volatile part of the matter which {314}

assists in the process of vegetation, there can be no doubt, when we

consider that any kind of dung may be deprived of the greater part

of its strength by being long exposed to a dry atmosphere. Nor is it

merely by preserving its own original substance that land in wood has

the advantage of cultivated ground. Whatever is extracted from the

latter in the form of vapour, falls again, when condensed, in the

shape of rain or dew; but, instead of descending wholly on the same

spots from whence it rose, it is, of course, diffused over the whole

space which the clouds, containing it, may happen to cover, and woods

and moors have as good a chance of receiving it on its return to the

earth, as the ground in tillage. The part of it which falls, either

on the cultivated fields or the naked wastes, may be again evaporated

before it has time to be productive of any benefit; but the portion

of it which the woodlands imbibe is retained to enrich the soil; for,

the umbrage excluding the rays of the sun, there is no possibility of

its being extracted a second time. Land covered with trees, therefore,

while it never loses any thing, receives, with every fall of rain,

or of dew, a tribute from the riches of the cultivated part of the

country. The advantage derived from this source is greater than

will be credited by those who are not aware how much {315} of the

substances proper for vegetable nutriment are exhaled from the land in

a gaseous state during the dry season of the year.

“But the principal way in which wood becomes instrumental in enriching

land still remains to be noticed. When trees attain a certain size,

they attract multitudes of birds, which build their nests and seek

shelter among the branches. The dung of these animals is the very

richest kind of manure which can be applied to land, and possesses, at

least, three times the strength of that commonly used in agriculture.

The quantity of it produced during the long series of years which

trees require to reach maturity is, especially where large colonies of

crows take up their abode, very considerable, and must have a powerful

influence in improving and fertilizing the soil.

“I ought not to omit here to mention, among the causes why ground is

improved by producing wood—the minuteness into which its particles

are divided by the roots and their fibres. On taking up a young tree,

or even a gooseberry bush, and shaking the earth from its roots, we

find the mould that falls from it as completely reduced to powder, as

if it had been passed through a fine sieve. Now, the fact {316} seems

undoubted, that land is much increased in fertility by being brought

to this state.”

Whether a greater accumulation of vegetable mould or enriching of

the soil, would take place under a system of rotation of crops,

stirring of the ground, and manuring, or under Nature’s own system

of management—whether, under forest, or under the rich leafy grasses

depastured by cattle, is a question of the greatest intricacy, and

only admits of local decision, being dependent upon climate, soil,

and circumstance. From our author’s statements, it would appear that

his mind had only ranged along the surface of the subject. He has not

taken into account the quantity of root which herbaceous vegetables

annually leave in the ground—in some kinds little inferior in bulk to

the portion above ground. We have traced oat and wheat roots running

down into clay five and six feet (as deep as those of many kinds of

trees), extremely numerous, and fine as human hair. He seems not aware

that the bulk of yearly vegetable produce is much increased by culture,

alternate cropping, and extraneous manure, such as lime, mixture of

earths, sea-ware, bones. He has not considered that the annual dead

roots within the soil, and the vegetable and animal manure, and the

{317} sward and the stubble ploughed down, conduce much more to enrich

and thicken the soil than the tree leaves, blown about by the winds,

and nearly dissipated into air, before the residuum fixes as a part

of the soil; and also that ploughing is often beneficial to shallow

soils, by mixing the thin covering of mould with the pure earth of

the subsoil,—the vegetable soil-matter, from consequent deeper cover,

and more equable moisture, not losing so much by evaporation, and at

the same time being more efficacious as nutriment to the vegetation.

He seems unacquainted with the fact, that the matter of wood and

tree-leaves, especially of the resinous kinds, and those containing

much tannin, if not actually pernicious, have very little fertilizing

effect—saw-dust has generally no manuring influence, but turns into

peat. He also appears to be ignorant, that some kinds of vegetables

draw more from the air and water, and others more from the earth;

and, especially, that vegetables in a moist climate, depastured or

cut before maturity, exhaust the soil much less than when allowed to

seed. In Britain, soils, particularly those of good quality, become

richer, and thicken more under pasturage, than under any other common

vegetation. This is owing to the manuring of the cattle—to the natural

grasses not being what is termed scourging plants, especially {318}

when not allowed to seed—to the complete cover of the ground by the

leaves—to the quantity of root which dies annually—and to the mould

thrown up by the red earth-worm, renovating the surface, and partly

covering the moss and decayed leaves and old bulbs. It is a curious

fact, that, under pasturage, fertility should increase in Britain and

diminish in Australia. An uncropt deep cover of grass appears necessary

to shelter the vegetable soil-matter during the arid heat, and even to

protect the roots from being burned out, in the latter country. And the

manure of cattle, instead of being covered by the luxuriant herbage

before it is desiccated, and enriching the soil as in England, is, in

New South Wales, under the powerful sun and arid air, quickly reduced

to dust and dissipated.

The fertility of soils may also be quickly increased, and the vegetable

cover thickened almost to any extent under tillage, by first rearing

a quantity of large growing annual vegetables, and when nearly full

extended, burying this green vegetable produce in drills, resowing the

ground immediately with another fast growing kind, and proceeding thus

continuedly.

The influence of birds in enriching forest soil, is exceedingly

limited, and is chiefly perceptible, not in continued forest, but in

some detached portions or {319} clumps of park trees, which colonies

of rooks or other large birds frequent.

Of the natural grass which Mr Cruickshank states succeeds in woods

to the original heaths, and which he describes as affording such

excellent tender food for cattle, we can only say, that either the

woods must have been unprofitably thin, and the trees naked, or that

he has completely mistaken the quality of the herbage. The grass of

woods is unhealthy food for cattle, and generally not relished, being

rendered unpalatable and noxious by the resinous and bitter droppings

from the tree leaves, and by the bitter and nauseous juices generated

in the soil by the roots of trees, which the herbage roots draw up.

In dry soils, there is sometimes an accumulation of whitish substance

within the ground, around the roots of trees, which some refer to

excrementitious deposit[61], but which, we think, is rather the produce

of a subterraneous vegetable, of the nature of a fungus or mould.

Wherever this has increased to a considerable extent, we believe old

forest ground will be found of great fertility. {320}

The friability and minute division of the soil to which Mr

Cruickshanks refers, existing around the bulbs of trees, can only be

of utility where the soil is too adhesive. Light soil is often injured

by being cropped by plants which tend greatly to reduce adhesion—what

the farmer styles being _driven_: besides, all luxuriant annual crops

render adhesive soils friable; and, remaining for a time under natural

grass, gives what is termed a turfiness to soils, which continues for

several years, and which renders both adhesive and light soils more

productive, preventing the adhesive from sinking down into mortar

under cultivation, and the light from losing all adhesion or granular

arrangement.

There is, no doubt, a disposition to accumulate vegetable deposit

in forests, from the moistness, coolness of the ground, and shade,

not tending so much as the sunshine and exposure of open country to

dissipate or volatilize the residuum of the decayed leaves and roots.

In a lower latitude, beyond the line of peat formation, this will have

some influence to increase the depth and richness of the vegetable

mould; but, in Scotland, where cold till bottom prevails, more injury

will result from forest tending to throw the debri of vegetation into

combinations unfavourable to the nourishment of plants (such as peat

{321} and compounds in which iron forms a part), than advantage, from

the dead vegetable matter not being so much dissipated by aration and

exposure to the sun. We have often observed the effect of remaining for

a length of time in a state of considerable dryness, dissipating the

vegetable part of the soil, in some of the old infield clays, where

the crown of the large ridges are raised up a foot or two above the

original surface-level. At the crown of the ridge, the vegetable clay

mould often only extends down about nine inches from the surface, the

subsoil immediately under being nearly void of vegetable matter, and

extremely close tenacious clay,—a solid foot of it, though of equal

moistness, being nearly double the weight of the same bulk of the

vegetable clay mould above it. From this clay, almost purely mineral,

being a little above the original surface-level, there can be no doubt,

that at one time it consisted of the vegetable surface mould of the

country, heaped up by repeated ploughings, and that it has gradually

lost the vegetable part. The depth of vegetable soil, near the furrows

of the ridges, is generally found to be greater than at the ridge crown.

The same dissipation of vegetable matter takes place when a ditch has

been dug in clay ground, and {322} the excavated earth thrown up to

form a dike on one side. On removal of the dike, the original surface,

which no doubt, at the time the dike was formed, consisted of vegetable

clay mould similar to the surface around, is always found to be close,

heavy, poor clay, containing little or no carbonaceous or vegetable

matter. In this case, from the draining effect of the ditch, the

original surface under the dike must have been drier than the subsoil

of the crowns of the ridges.

The difference of depth and richness of vegetable mould, may nearly

always be referred to existing causes, such as the original surface

(diluvium, or decayed rock), being a combination of earths favourable

to vegetation; occupying a genial situation; being favourably placed

with regard to moisture, that is, less or more moist, according as the

original surface has been clayey or sandy, or open or close bottomed;

and is in no way connected with those flood torrents to which we owe

the diluvium deposits themselves—tills, sand and gravel, in which

we have never found any vegetable matter, excepting in the coaly or

mineralized state.

Unless in the case of alluvium, or of drift sand, or where surface

earth has been rolled down from {323} heights, or been _forced_ by

man[62], soil is seldom found to exceed 6 feet in depth, and that only

in warm moist situations, propitious to vegetation. In Scotland we

never have seen it exceed 3 or 4 feet in depth where its accumulation

had not been aided by the above causes. The most common depth is from

6 inches to 2 feet; but, in many of our sterile districts, the surface

hardly deserves the name of mould, containing very little vegetable

matter, or that matter being unavailable from the presence of tannin.

It is a well known fact, that summer-fallowing always dissipates a

portion of the vegetable matter in the soil, although it may, at the

same time, tend to fertility, especially in adhesive soils, and where

the climate is not very arid and warm, overbalancing the loss from

dissipation by the advantage resulting from aëration and absorption

of gases and heat, and the sun’s rays; by the mechanical disposition

and comminution from being thoroughly dried and then moistened; and,

probably, by the formation of salts, {324} stimulative to vegetation;

or, as it has been thought, by the resting for a season. In the case

of any tannin or inert vegetable matter existing in the soil, the

heat and drying will tend to reduce these to a condition suitable for

vegetable food. In the West Indies, when a summer fallowing is resorted

to in order to get clear of the weeds, the fertility of the ground

is considerably lessened, from the evaporation or burning out of the

putrescent or carbonaceous matter. Were the fallowing continued for

several successive seasons, there is no doubt that the whole matter,

which, combined with earth, forms mould, would be dissipated.

About a century ago, it was the practice, in our neighbourhood (an

alluvial clay district), to build up the soil of the fallow division,

furrow deep, into thin dikes, or walls, about 5 feet high. This was

done in early summer. After being dried and aërated by the summer’s

drought, the dikes were levelled down in the autumn and sown with

wheat. This system was considered so fertilizing as to counterbalance

the labour and the loss of a crop.

Our own practice has proven that there is scarcely any manure more

effective for one crop, particularly of spring sowing, than the clay of

old mud walls of {325} houses, though applied in no larger quantity

than is usually given of farm-yard manure, and though the clay appear

quite free from vegetable matter. It is improbable that the resting

of the clay from production could have any effect to occasion this

fertility. We considered it to arise chiefly from a quantity of nitre

having been formed in, or deposited about, the walls from their long

proximity to animal effluvia and to atmospheric air. The fertilizing

effect of the dike system of summer-fallow, and even of the present

system, may also depend in part on the formation of nitre, well known

to be a powerful manure or stimulant in this country. In dry seasons we

have scraped together handfuls of salts, partly nitre, from the exposed

surface of clay-banks. Should a considerable part of the fertilizing

effect of fallowing arise from the formation of nitre, the application

of lime and putrescent manures to fallows, in the early part of

summer, will be advantageous, as the presence of both are favourable

to the formation of nitre. Of course, the utility of encouraging the

formation[63] of {326} nitre or other salts, combinations of potassa

or of soda, will depend on the climate, whether much or little rain

falls, and whether the rain water goes off by evaporation or by

drainage. In the case of little rain, or the rain-water being nearly

all evaporated, nitre and other salts will accumulate in the soil, so

as, from their excess, to be injurious to vegetation; whereas, should

much rain fall, or the rain-water be chiefly carried off by drainage,

vegetation may languish from deficiency of these salts, there being

less deposition of the salts, or the salts as they form being washed

away. The same will apply to the graminivorous animals. Sea-salt,

perhaps also nitre and other salts, will be serviceable in a moist

country, or far from the sea, where the plants and water contain little

saline matter, and probably pernicious in a dry climate, where the

plants and water generally contain much saline matter.

In the portion of the earth from the Atlantic eastward, through

Numidia, Libya, Egypt, Nubia, Arabia, Persia, as far as the Indus,

from the enormous ruins, and other vestiges of dense population,

as well as from ancient records, there must have {327} existed a

considerable depth of vegetable mould covering, where now little is

left but pure sand, baked clay, bare rock, and saline encrustations.

From the footing which an industrious and brave nation has recently so

honourably acquired in this territory, may we not hope that the tide

of arid sterility, dissipating the vegetable covering, will be turned,

and that through European enterprise and mechanical science, by means

of steam and wind power, a system of irrigation will be introduced

which will reanimate this dead portion of the earth—spreading forth

again perpetual spring, strewing the desert all over with herbs, and

fruits, and flowers, converting the sirocco into a breeze loaded with

fragrance, and reproducing, in profusion, all the delights of the

gardens of Hesperus? From the carbonaceous or soil-matter being burned

out, and from the quantity of saline deposit, a very considerable time

will, however, elapse before production be generally extended, and

the desert so far circumscribed, and the ground cooled so much, as to

condense a sufficiency of rain and dew, that a new vegetable mould

cover may be formed.

But to return from our wide exclusion, we observe, that Mr Cruickshank

states, page 25, “that any land that is proper for Scots fir will be

found to answer well with the larch.” This observation, with {328}

what he says of larch “being heavier in proportion to its bulk” than

Scots fir, and that “spruce is very easily wrought, and tries the

carpenter’s tools less than any other kind of wood used in building,”

would lead us to suspect that our author has had a very limited

acquaintance with his subject. A number of different soils will produce

large Scots fir where larches will be generally rotted and hollow in

the heart, by twenty years of age[64]. This ignorance of our author is

the more glaring, as it is coupled with {329} some severe strictures

on planters in general for _their ignorance_ of the proper location

of trees. He says, “Scots fir, on soils of a fertile character, is

short lived, and the excellence of its timber is in proportion to

the slowness of its growth.” This is erroneous. We would rather say

it is short-lived in bad soil: Memel fir (Pinus sylvestris), is of

very superior quality, very large growthed, and of great age. He also

asserts “elm prefers a strong clay soil, and it is perhaps impossible

to bring this tree to the utmost size it is capable of attaining in

land of a different quality.” This is also erroneous. We have seen very

beautiful large Scots elms grubbed out from a soil of pure gravel, and

we can show thousands of instances where Scots elms do not thrive well

in clay—in rich as well as poor clay. We are aware that in every volume

treating of numerous facts, such as Mr Cruickshank’s, many inaccuracies

may always be picked out, but the above are rather too prominent.