Like the sailor he also has learned some of the secrets of nature. He does not usually possess a compass, but he can tell its points by more familiar signs: by the pendent tops of the hemlocks, which usually bend toward the east, or by the mossy sides of the trees, which are generally in the direction of the coolest and moistest quarter of the heavens. In an extreme case he will even mount one of the tallest of the trees to find his bearings in his oceanlike forest. If well judged, the sighing of the wind in the boughs, I have been told, says much about the coming weather; just as the sickly wash of the waves means something to the sailor. Withal, both he and the woodsman are natural and generally honest fellows, hard workers at perilous callings, and less apt to speak than to commune with their own thoughts.
VI
THE ARTIFICIAL FORESTS OF EUROPE
To some of us, in this age of travel, the forests of Europe have become as familiar as our own. As scenic objects they have their faults and their excellences. While we appreciate their order and neatness, and the beautiful effects that may arise out of the subordination of all components of the forest to one main purpose, we Americans always miss in them the freshness of nature.
These forests, as they now stand, are the result of a long-continued application of the scientific principles of forestry, under special conditions, to the European forests of old. Having referred repeatedly to forestry itself, I now purpose, to the extent which a single chapter will permit, to explain the sources of beauty, or the absence of it, in these artificial forests. I shall thus place in contrast with our own, which are just beginning to undergo a new process of development, those of Europe, which have long been subjected to one in many respects similar.
The importance of forests had long been understood by the people of Europe. The relation which they held to civilized life, both in a material way and otherwise, led, more than a century ago, to a systematic and scientific treatment. It was realized that these forests might be made perpetual, and so might furnish a constant supply of useful material; that they economized and regulated the flow of mountain streams, which are always of great importance to the agricultural lands of subjacent regions; that they held in place the loose soil of the slopes, thus averting avalanches and ruinous floods; that they broke the force of the winds, tempered and purified the air, and I may add, inspired man with better and happier thoughts.
For these reasons the people of Europe determined to guard their forests well, and to aid nature, if possible, in becoming still more useful to man. To this end they made a careful study of the life history of the forest, and investigated the requirements of the trees and their rates of growth under varying conditions of soil, heat, light, and moisture. They also studied the numerous dangers to which the forest is exposed, and invented means and established laws for its protection. In short, they effected an ingenious adjustment between the needs of the forest and the requirements of man, and in course of time laid the foundations for a new system that was destined to be of great importance to the economic interests of nations.
Many sciences were involved in the solution of these questions. With the progress in means and methods the aims and objects of the new profession gradually grew to be more and more clearly defined, and knowledge and experience ultimately evolved the new science of forestry. To the forester were finally intrusted the reëstablishment, protection and preservation, the improvement, the regulation, the management and administration, as well as the final cutting, of the forest.
Such interference with the work of nature ultimately affected its aspect. In the long life of the forest the changes were slow, but in course of time the stamp of artificiality was impressed upon it, and the imprint of nature’s own countenance was taken away. To an American, if he has seen a little of our wildness, a great charm is wanting in the artificial forests of Europe. The sun does not seem to set naturally, but to hide behind roads and houses. It may be a lifelike and harmonious scene, but it does not speak as deeply and expressively as our wilder woods. The necessity of it is thrust upon you. It seems, at times, as if the free will and perfect liberty of the air and rain, of the wind, were wanting.
These forests are crossed by roads and are often divided into sections of distinct age, kind, and appearance. Shrubs, if any, are few. The deer’s track is known. The history of these trees is known and recorded, and even their doom is fixed for a near or distant day.
There is, however, another side to this question. Through their very design and fitness for an intended object the effects that are produced are often decidedly pleasing. What these effects are will now appear from an examination of the four different types or classes that constitute at present the artificial forests of Europe.