rude unscientific system which is never practised now in any considerable forest. Even in the coppices, a proportion of the trees is now usually left standing. The true forest system, now universally followed in all scientifically managed forests, consists simply in leaving Nature as much as possible to herself, and in removing only the superfluous population of trees before Nature carries them off by the natural course of decay. Science can also assist Nature to a certain extent, and can accelerate her operations by clearing away dense underwood or creepers, by judicious thinning and pruning, and even by irrigation and chemical fertilizing of the soil.

In a virgin forest the fall of seeds from the ripe trees produces a numerous crop of seedlings; some kinds of seeds are winged or tufted with a downy cotton, and fly abroad upon the breeze to alight and sprout in every unoccupied corner, but seeds like the acorn and beechnut are heavy, they drop and germinate close to the parent stock. The greater number of these seedlings wither and die at an early age for want of the air and light which the heavy foliage above them excludes. But the elder trees soon reach the natural term of their existence, their crests become bare, they lose their leaves, they rot and fall, the generation of young trees beneath them is no longer cut off from the free air and light all-nourishing: its roots find clear space in the soil, it shoots up vigorously into maturity and takes the place of innumerable ancestors. Then ensues the struggle for existence, the strong species, who after a protracted warfare lasting through many generations have driven out and exterminated less hardy species, now strangle the weaker of their own species where there is not room for all, and the survivors reign in their turn as lords of the forests.

It is the business of the forester to aid the natural process described above. He can expedite natural selection of the hardiest seedlings by pulling up a part of each crop, he can fell the finest trees that have attained their full growth anticipating ordinary decay, he can cautiously thin the foliage of the elder trees that are left, so as to let in light and air to the younger saplings without destroying their shelter from heat and wind, and he can cut away all the brambles, creepers, and parasites which hamper the growth and exhaust the vitality of the rising generation. But the French have gone far beyond these simple operations, they have analyzed the component parts of the ligneous tissues, the elementary proportions have been ascertained, and it has been proved that irrigation and fertilizing with wood ashes wonderfully affect the growth of trees. In

the last Paris exhibition, M. Clave tells us, were shown specimens of timber from forced oaks and pines, prodigies of vegetation, which at four years had the natural girth of fifteen. It has also been found, as might have been inferred, that some species of trees do not flourish alone, but require the alliance and aid of other species. The oak grows very slowly, and its foliage is light in its earlier stages, it requires a quick-growing tree with dense foliage to be its helpmate while it is young, and to protect it against evil atmospheric influences.

It is obvious, however, that in India these refinements of close scientific forest cultivation would be quite out of place, and we only mention them as curious experiments. As M. Clave points out, different countries require entirely different systems in arboriculture as in agriculture, which must be adapted to the economical conditions of the soil and the people. No one would attempt high farming in the Far West of America, where there are vast tracts which merely want breaking up, nor on the interminable waste lands of the Central Provinces, although ingenious settlement officers draw up costly irrigation schemes. And so in the great primæval forests of India, nature requires very little help or interference on the part of science. She mostly asks that people should know what to leave alone, and above all that she be allowed something like fair play, and protected from the pitiless ravages of ignorance and greed for gain.

Having described how a forest should be grown and kept up, M. Clave proceeds to instruct us as to the best methods of working it for profit-to the State, be it understood, as perpetual trustee for the nation. No mortal capitalist who should look for interest upon his investments within the ordinary span of human life, would undertake to grow a forest, and it is undoubted that the owner of a forest in full growth would find his best pecuniary profit in cutting it down to coppices. For a full-grown forest in its prime contains trees of ages, varying from one to two hundred years, of which all above ten years are worth money; so that the whole represents a capital which no financier who looked to individual gain would lock up. The most that can be expected of the ordinary proprietor is, that he will not clear off the whole forest, but that he will preserve the trees under 15 years or thereabouts, so as to get a moderately quick return on sales of fuel and small wood. The great timber trees however will go, never to re-appear, exterminated by the relentless economical maxim which refuses less than the average rates of profit in other productive undertakings. And even if the proprietor, like so many in England, would scorn the idea of viewing his noble woods merely as sources of profit, yet still the

existence of the forests is precarious. A time comes when money must be had, owing to ruinous speculations, or the waste of a prodigal heir; and the timber goes to satisfy creditors, or the estate passes into the hands of an energetic shipbuilder. Those who saw the stumps in the park at Felbrigg Hall after a few years of the late Mr. W. F. Windham's crazy career, will agree that drinking and harlotry are as fatal to tall trees as to their proprietors. So that we may fairly conclude that private interests and private tastes can be no more relied upon to produce timber than, as we have shown, they can be expected to abstain from felling forests altogether out of consideration of the evil effects upon climate and water supply. The ordinary laws of supply and demand lose their force altogether in this business ;-direct State intervention is as necessary here as in ordinary productive undertakings it is objectionable; for we want an owner who seldom or never becomes insolvent, who does not aim at money making, and who can look a century ahead for his profits.

A tree is formed by the successive accumulation of layers of wood one upon another. Every year it clothes itself, from the lowest roots to the tips of the smallest boughs, with a fresh coating, until after a century the sapling acquires the girth and size of a huge oak. It is of course known that these annual layers are easily distinguished, and show the age of the tree. But the process is not the same in all species of trees, some grow very rapidly in their youth and the subsequent increase slackens perceptibly, others begin slowly, and only develope vigorously after passing a certain age. To this last class belong all the hardest and most valuable timbers, which improve by age up to a certain point, in quality as well as in quantity. M. Clave says that an oak two hundred years old in prime condition, would yield timber worth at least 400 francs (£16), whereas the same tree, if felled eight times in the same period (i. e. at intervals of 25 years), would not have fetched more than 30 francs altogether. The essential point in the working of forests is to determine at what age each sort of tree can be felled with most profit; as we have observed above, they yield some profit at any age between 10 and 200 years; and herein does arboriculture differ from agriculture, where the crops must be reaped at one unmistakeable season, neither before nor after. In cornfields the annual yield is represented by the whole crop standing. In a forest, it is the cubic quantity of that year's growth upon all the trees. And since taking the forest for our capital, and the yearly increase for our interest, our object should be not to encroach upon the capital, it is of prime importance to ascertain

exactly the average yearly growth, in order that we may proportionate thereto, as nearly as practicable, the quantity which we may remove by annual fellings. Of course these refined calculations apply better to the lesser and more valuable forests of Europe than to the vast woodland ranges of India, but the principle is accepted everywhere, and the great object of scientific foresters is by long observations and patient recording of experiments to discover the rates of increase of different species of trees in different soils and climates and at different ages. It has also been discovered that the various parts of a tree increase by different ratios, which are to a great extent regulated by the position of the tree; the branches of a clump or of a thick forest develop much less than in isolated trees, &c., &c.*

All these observations and experiments go to form the basis of a perfect system of forest management, which is carried on much more profitably on a large than on a small scale. The period of rotation is fixed, and as each tree reaches its appointed term, when it has attained its utmost development, it is foiled, and its place is taken up by the next in seniority. Meanwhile, care is taken to aid in every way the re-production from natural seedlings and the free growth of every generation, so that at the end of twenty annual fellings the Conservator can show a standing forest as perfect in every stage from the youngest seedling to the noblest bicentenary oaks, as on the day when the axe was first laid to a tree in the virgin woodland.

Who does not know the intense pleasure which a forest can give to those who have eyes to see the picturesque view from heights above or plain below of the hill-sides clothed with a waving sheet of many tinted foliage? You draw near, and the dim religious shade, the mysterious sounds, the cool dells and clear cold brooks, delight every sense.

'O! qui me gelidis in vallibus Hœmi

'Sistet, et ingenti ramorum protegat umbrâ.' The soft temperature of the wood-country attracts the clouds, which

'Bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers
From the seas and the streams,

And bear light shade for the leaves when laid

'In their noonday dreams.

From their wings are shaken the dews that waken

The sweet buds every one,

'When rocked to rest on their mother's breast,

· As she dances about the sun.'-SHELLEY.

*An English writer on forestry (Brown) places the grand climacteric of oaks [i. e., the period from which the rate of increase begins to diminish] at 120 years. Dr. Brandis fixes the average at 90 years for teak in Burmah. M. Clave says that in Prussia oaks attain their prime at 150 years, and beeches at 120 years.

And when, leaving the regions of poetry and the picturesque, we descend to prosaic computation of the inestimable value to all arts and manufactures of forest produce, and consider how the abundance of wood, or its want, affects the comfort and wealth of the people; we shall admit the high importance of a science which can maintain our great forests in their prime, and at the same time can make never-failing provision for the supply of a product essential to the prosperity, if not to the existence, of a nation.

It would be neither interesting nor profitable to Indian readers for us to follow closely M. Clave in his dissertation on the best methods of turning to account forest produce. He begins by showing that the forests owned by townships are as badly managed as can be, and yield the least possible profits. They are owned by the villages in common; every year a certain quantity is felled indiscriminately, and is divided among the villagers, to whom this partition is an abundant source of squabbling and law suits. The people cling resolutely, however, to their ancient rights, and many a commune prefers living in squalid laziness on the scanty produce of their forest, to giving it on lease to the Government administrators, or to breaking up an acre for agriculture, whereby the nation at large loses as well as the township. The French Government is making vigorous efforts to save these forests by buying up such franchises upon liberal terms, and the Government of India might well follow in the same path wherever, as in the case of many petty zamindaries if not of villages, the forests are clearly worth preserving.

M. Clave advocates the system of selling timber standing, and it appears that the fellings are each year put up for auction at the head quarters of the department. It is argued that these fellings comprise many kinds of trees required for different purposes, so that the State cannot always find purchasers willing to take all kinds; whereas the wood-merchant has made it his special business to discover how each sort can be disposed of to the best advantage.

We believe that there is some difference of opinion among Indian Forest officers as to the most profitable system. One main objection to selling the trees as they stand being, that the purchasers cannot be strictly looked after, and that they do a good deal of damage. The best season for felling is said in France to be the autumn or winter,-the timber is harder, and the fuel wood burns better-but this does not apply to the resinous trees. The branches are lopped before the tree is cut down, that its fall may not damage the younger growth around it. The cost of carriage is of course an all-important element in the price of wood, insomuch that the French