ly sprang. We know of knobs, so to speak, of the most rocky land, rendered productively valuable by the careful preservation and pruning of the Red Cedar, which sprang up spontaneously upon them, and which would have remained as shrubs, if browsed by cattle, and have continued to be as useless for food, as unsightly to the eye. From the success which has attended the experiments in France, on the most barren sands, and in Scotland, on the bleakest highlands, as well as from our actual knowledge of what humbler and more limited operations have effected in this vicinity, we are persuaded that the sterile and mossy ridges of gravel, stretching around some of our maritime towns, for instance, Duxbury, which is particularly in our mind now, and the sandy plains of Hingham, and of the more interior towns, could become of a future value, which scarcely can be calculated now. The importance of forests, and indeed of every tree and shrub, in improving the soil, is too great to be overlooked, while their own intrinsic value is by no means small. This is effected by the decomposition of the original soil through the roots; by the gradual decay of the foliage, and through the prevention of the winds carrying the particles of soil from spot to spot. Many an acre would resemble the moving sands of an Arabian desert, were it not for the thick carpet, of pine leaves which lie under the trees, which such a shifting soil bears and not a few such we know, where entire days are required to dig out the walls and fences, buried, year by year, by the drift sand; a species of husbandry of most improvident character, and an evil which soon could be remedied, by the judicious planting of various species of pine. De Candolle tells us that he herborized for a whole day, in similar artificial "forests sown by Brementier on sand completely arid, and on which, before, scarce a trace of vegetation could be seen." It is well known, too, that the shade of the yellow Locust, (Robinia psuedacacia,) is most favorable to the growth of nutritious grass, even on spots where, before the planting of this tree, it was impossible to make it grow, and numerous such facts only tend to exhibit the facilities, as well as advantages, which this kind of agricultural pursuit offers.

Those who are fond of vegetable statistics, whether in the economical employment of the various kinds of woods, or in

the more pleasing but less useful details of size, form, proportions, of trees, will find much information in this report. Mr. Emerson is evidently a connoisseur in this branch of taste, and speaks with much felicity of many noble specimens of Oaks, Elms, Pines and other trees. Every body admires the Elm, and all are struck with their occasional extraordinary sizes. Of these

"In Springfield, in a field a few rods north of the hotel, is an elm which was twenty-five feet and nine inches in circumference, at three feet from the ground, when I measured it in 1837. This magnificent tree divides, not many feet from the ground, into several large branches. This is near the place where the enormous Celtis, which was usually taken for an elm, once stood. There are many other elms, not far from this, some of which make a greater show at a distance.

"The Aspinwall elm, in Brookline, standing near the ancient house belonging to that family, and which was known to be one hundred and eighty-one years old in 1837, then measured twenty-six feet five inches at the ground, or as near to it as the roots would allow us to measure, and sixteen feet eight inches at five feet. The branches extended one hundred and four feet from southeast to northwest, and ninety-five from northeast to southwest.

The great elm on Boston Common was measured by Prof. Gray and myself, in June of 1844. At the ground, it measures twenty-three feet six inches; at three feet, seventeen feet eleven inches; and, at five feet, sixteen feet and one inch. The largest branch, towards the southeast, stretches fifty-one feet.

"The classical elm, opposite the gate of the Botanic Garden, Cambridge, measured fourteen feet nine inches at four feet, in 1838." pp. 290, 291.

A fine large specimen of Céltis crassifòlia Mx., or Hackberry, is thus mentioned:

"I have found it in only two places :-in Springfield, on the east side of the Connecticut River, and in West Springfield, on the west. Some of the trees are, I hope, still standing. The most remarkable one has been destroyed. It grew a few rods north of the Hampden House, in the broad county road, in Springfield. When I measured it, in September, 1838, its girth, at three feet from the ground, was sixteen feet ten inches; at four, it was fourteen feet three inches; at six, thirteen feet. It had gnarled, projecting roots, putting out on every side till nearly three feet from the surface. It diminished, gradually, to the height of twelve or fifteen feet, and there had several broad, irregular protuberances, where it had lost large limbs. Above this, it tapered rapidly, dividing into three branches, which formed a small, round, rather dense top, fifty or sixty feet high. It was covered with a very rough, brownish gray bark, and had, altogether, so

much the aspect of an elm, that it was, almost universally, taken for one. I was informed that a still larger tree of the same kind had formerly grown near it. Within two years, this noble tree has fallen, like its brother, before the axe of improvement." pp. 309, 310.

Here is a description of a picturesque tree, and an instance of enthusiasm not, happily, rare among lovers of plants:

"There is a tree of this kind at Cohasset, which was first pointed out to me by the Rev. Dr. Greenwood, a man of taste, who was a lover of trees, and which we rode twenty-five miles expressly to see. It is richly worth a much longer journey. It stands in a lone pasture, half a mile or more eastward from a place called the Gulf. At the surface, just above the roots, it is eleven feet in circumference, and it is nine feet and two inches, up to the larger branches, which begin at about seven feet from the ground. The trunk loses little of its diameter for near twenty feet, although, in that space, twenty large branches, and many small ones, put out. These are very

large, and project horizontally on every side, to a great distance, with an air of mighty strength and power of resistance. The bark is cleft into long prismatic ridges, nearly two inches high, which, on the larger branches, are broken into hexagons, with an approach to geometric regularity. It is of a mouse color, or purplish ashy gray, with white clouds of pertusaria, and greenish and bluish ash parmelias. The height is forty or fifty feet; the average breadth of the head sixty-three feet, its extreme breadth sixtysix. The whole head is of a broad, irregularly hemispherical shape, flat at top. A striking circumstance in this tree is the fact that the enormous horizontal branches push out as boldly seaward as in any other direction, though the north-east wind sweeps from the Bay in this quarter with a violence which has bent almost every other tree towards the land. I have observed many other instances of the vigor with which the tupelo stands out against the sea breeze." pp. 316, 317.

A picturesque ruin of a White ОAK, we are told,

"Is standing in Brighton, where the road called Nonantum Street crosses that from Boston to Newton Corner. At the surface of the ground, it measures, this first of October, 1845, twenty-five feet and nine inches in circumference; at three feet, it is twenty-two feet four inches; at six feet, fifteen feet two inches. It tapers gradually to the height of about twenty-five feet, where the stump of its ancient top is visible, below which point four or five pretty large branches are thrown out, which rise twenty or thirty feet higher. Below, the places of many former limbs are covered over by immense gnarled and bossed protuber

* [This old specimen has always commanded our admiration: we have known it for nearly thirty years, and it seems now as it did when we first saw it.]-Ed.

ances. The trunk is hollow at the base, with a large opening on the southwest, through which boys and men may easily enter. It had, probably, passed its prime, centuries before the first English voice was heard on the shores of Massachusetts Bay. It is still clad with abundant foliage, and, if respected as its venerable age deserves, it may stand, an object of admiration, for centuries to come." p. 131.

Trees become objects of affectionate interest, and their untimely loss we properly deplore. An instance to the point, in the case of a beautiful sassafras (Sássafras officinale Nees Vonesenbeck.)

"The sassafras never grows to the size of a tree of the first class. One was growing in 1842, in West Cambridge, which measured more than three feet through at the base, and rose without a limb more than thirty feet, with a 'trunk very straight and slightly diminished, above which it had a somewhat lofty and broad head. It was nearly sixty feet high, and had been long growing by itself. It was felled and its roots dug up, to allow a stone wall to run in a right line. Such pieces of barbarism are still but too common. A tree so beautiful and lofty, and of such rare dimensions, such an ornament to a bare hill-side, sacrificed to the straightness of a wall!" p. 323.

[To be continued.]

MISCELLANEOUS INTELLIGENCE.

ART. I. General Notices.

Cultivation of Annual Flowers." Well grown Annuals contribute much to the gaiety of the garden; and although not quite so well adapted for masses as some of our half-hardy plants, yet they are extremely eligible for borders and mixed beds. They are frequently treated with too much kindness, sown in soil of too rich a character, and, of course, ' run too much to leaf.' We would advise all those, who can spare the means, to devote two little frames to their especial cultivation at this period, the one with bottom-heat, the other without it. That with bottom-heat would be better with a plunging material, possessing a permanent heat of 70°, the pots placed very close to a clear glass roof, and matted up at night. The other frame, without bottom-heat, should be raised a foot above the ground level, where water cannot possibly stand, and should be filled to within a foot of the glass with cinder ashes. They should be both well watered with boiling water previous to placing the pots to destroy all insects. We would raise both the tender and hardy kinds in the frame with heat; managing the sowings in a successive way, according to the period in which they were required to blossom. The hardy, however, would have to be removed to the

cold frame as soon as an inch high; they would there harden down in a couple of weeks, and be ready for turning out into the borders. The tender annuals, if drawing in the warm frame, might be removed to warm and light shelves, in the greenhouse or other structures. The soil for the hardy kinds should be chiefly plain loam; this will be found to produce a sturdier plant than rich vegetable matters; and much blossom, in proportion to the amount of foliage. We would raise all our hardy annuals in pots through the summer, in cool frames, turning them out when slightly pot-bound. How often have we seen annuals, in rich borders, of immense size yet contributing little to the decoration of the garden; and, in a wet and dull summer, actually rotting in the ground.”—Gardeners' Chronicle, 1847. p. 119 and 120.

Pruning the Pear Tree.-A series of short articles has lately appeared in the Gardeners' Chronicle, upon the pruning of the pear tree, which we may presume are from the pen of Mr. R. Thompson. As they are just now in good season, we extract the following upon the mode of pruning standards, equally applicable, also, to dwarfs, and, at another opportunity, we shall endeavor to find room for that portion upon espaliers. We commend it to the attention of all cultivators :

"We broke off, in our last number, with the Pear Tree, supposed to be stopped, at the time of winter pruning, to three buds above the desired height of clear stem, which was assumed to be 6 feet. These three buds will in all probability break into shoots. In the course of the summer there is also great probability that the said shoots will grow at unequal angles of elevation; the shoot from the uppermost bud tending most to a perpendicular direction, and, from this circumstance, it will generally be the strongest. An equality of growth is now, however, desirable. This may be secured by bending the strong shoot from the upright direction, by means of a strip of matting before midsummer; and if in July it should still exhibit great superiority in vigor, stop it by cutting or pinching off its point."

"At the end of the season, the three shoots will be tolerably equal, and may be shortened to about a foot in length. Two shoots should be allowed to grow from each of these three primary ones; and thus six principal limbs will be originated. These should, of course, be as nearly equi-distant as possible. In order to secure this, care should be taken always to cut above a bud pointing towards the direction which it may appear desirable for the shoot from it to proceed. For example, if two branches are likely to approach, or ultimately to cross each other, the leading shoots of such branches should be cut to buds pointing in opposite directions. If, on the other hand, there is too great a space between two branches, let these be cut to buds situated on the respective sides of the branches or shoots next the opening. If a branch has taken a direction too upright, cut to a bud on its under side; if too pendulous, shorten more than in the preceding case, and to a bud on the upper side.

"The formation of shoots to form the principal branches of the top having been effected, it will next be necessary to shorten the leaders of these where