Page:The Atlantic Monthly Volume 6.djvu/271

I860.] Among the Trees. 263 and the Cypress. Though many of the deciduous trees assume more or less of this outline, it is the normal and charac- teristic form of the Pines and their kin- dred species. It is a peculiarity of the pyramidal trees, with a few exceptions, to remain always disfigured, after the loss of an important branch, having no power to fill the vacant space by a new growth. Other trees readily fill up a vacancy occasioned by the loss of a branch, and may suffer considerable mutilation without losing their beauty, because an invariable proportion is not necessary to render them pleasing ob- jects of sight. On account of the sym- metry of their forms, the pyramidal trees are made ugly by the loss of a limb, as the porch of a temple would be ruined by the removal of one of its pillars. Hence we may understand the charm of that irregularity that prevails in the forms of vegetation. If we remove a branch from an Elm or an Oak, or even from an Ash, we destroy no positive symmetry ; it is like removing a stone from a loose stone wall ; we do but slightly modify its disproportions. The White Pine may be selected as the American representative of the py- ramidal trees, being the most important as well as the most striking in its appear- ance. It is a Northern tree, not extend- ing so far south as the region of the Cy- press and Magnolia, and attaining perfec- tion only on the northeastern part of the continent. In the New England States, it contributes more than any other spe- cies to the beauty of our landscapes, where it is commonly seen in scattered groups, but not often as a solitary stand- ard. We see it in our journeys, project- ing over eminences that are skirted by old roads, shading the traveller from the sun and protecting him from the wind. We have sat under its fragrant shade, in our pedestrian tours, when, weary with heat and exercise, we sought its gift of coolness, and blessed it as one of the be- nign deities of the forest. We are famil- O iar with it in all pleasant and solitary places ; and in our afternoon rambles we have listened, underneath its boughs, to the plaintive note of the Green Warbler, who selects it for his abode, and who has caught a melancholy tone from the winds that from immemorial time have tuned to soft music its long sibilant leaves. The White Pine is a tree that harmo- nizes with all situations, rude and culti- vated, level and abrupt. On the side of the mountain it adds grandeur to the de- clivity, and gives a look of sweeter tran- quillity to the green pastoral meadow. It yields a darker frown to the projecting cliff, and a more awful uncertainty to the mountain-pass or the hollow ravine. Amid desolate scenery it spreads a cheer- fulness that detracts nothing from its pow- er over the imagination, while it relieves it of its terrors by presenting a green bulwark to defend us from the elements. Nothing can be more cheerful in scenery than the occasional groups of Pines which have come up spontaneously on the bald hills near our coast, elsewhere a dreary waste of gray rocks, stunted shrubbery, and prostrate Juniper. In the forest the White Pine constitutes the very sanctu- ary of Nature, its tall pillars extending into the clouds, and its broad canopy of foliage mixing with the vapors that de- scend in the storm. Such are its picturesque aspects : but in a figurative light it may be regarded as a true symbol of benevolence. Under its outspread roof, thousands of otherwise unprotected animals, nestling in the bed of dry leaves which it has spread upon the ground, find shelter and repose. The squirrel subsists upon the kernels obtain- ed from its cones ; the rabbit browses upon the Trefoil and the spicy foliage of the Hypericum which are protected in its conservatory of shade ; and the fawn reposes on its brown couch of leaves, un- molested by the outer tempest. From its green arbors the quails may be rous- ed in midwinter, when they resort thith- er to find the still sound berries of the Mitchella and the Wintergreen. Nature, indeed, seems to have designed this tree to protect the animal creation, both in summer and winter, and I am persuaded