ns of New England were stripped of
their woods, the lovers of natural scenery and rural life would seek
elsewhere the gratification of their tastes. Even the stately homes
of England would appear commonplace in the absence of the majestic
trees and forests which now encircle them. A plain, modest house,
situated in the midst of an open grass-plat and sheltered by a few
handsome shade trees, is more beautiful and appeals more strongly to
the feelings than the stateliest mansion unprotected from the sun.
Who would care to live by the side of the purest stream or body of
water, if it were not fringed with trees? Were it not for trees,
would there be any beauty in mountain, hill, or valley,--for who can
conceive of a beautiful landscape scene devoid of trees?

The love of trees seems to be implanted in all noble natures. The
ancients believed that "the groves were the first temples of the
gods." Christopher North says that the man who loves not trees would
make no bones of murdering.

Some people give as an excuse for not planting trees that it takes
so long for them to grow that they will not live to enjoy them. The
selfishness of this excuse is enough to condemn it; but it is not
tenable from any point of view. It has been said that he who makes
two blades of grass grow where only one grew before is a benefactor
of his race; and of all the pursuits connected with the interests of
mankind what can be the source of more true and disinterested
happiness than the knowledge that one has been instrumental in
changing a waste and unproductive piece of land into a scene of
umbrageous and waving beauty? Cicero speaks of tree-planting as the
most delightful occupation of advanced life; and Sir Robert Walpole
once said that among the various actions of his busy life none had
given him so much satisfaction in the performance and so much
unsullied pleasure in the retrospect as the planting with his own
hands many of those magnificent trees that now form the pride of
Houghton.

Of course it is not claimed that every one should have expensive
buildings upon his homestead, or wide-spreading lawns around his
house. Many are so situated that they cannot afford to live in
costly houses or to spend much money on their surroundings; but
every one can make his home, however humble, pleasant and homelike,
and can keep his dooryard and wayside free from old rubbish. I can
understand how love can be happy in a cottage, but I do not believe
i