not only contributes to the elongation of the stem and branches, but at the same time to the formation of a new conical layer, or enveloping mantle of wood and bark between the wood and bark of the previous year. Each shoot, with its system of leaves, contributes its part to the newlyformed layer, and the growth of the stem, in length and thickness, thus takes place at the same time.

Toward the close of the growing season, the sap is again diverted from the leaves to the buds forming in their axilla; and the protective leaves of winter having been fully matured, the second generation of nutritive leaves wither and fall from the stem and branches as before. Our tree, when defoliated, now shows a number of shoots associated together, and developing from a common axis or stem, all of which have been built up by leaves constructed on precisely the same pattern as the first year's shoot, and prepared for winter in exactly the same manner.

The Third Year the tree presents the same general vegetative appearances. The terminal bud continues the growth of the stem or main axis as before, the buds on the branches develope into branchlets, and contribute to the further extension of the branches and to the growth of the shoots forming at their summit; and the whole system of shoots thus put forth, with their leaves, co-operate in the formation of the sap into another enveloping mantle of bark and wood, which covers the stem and branches of the previous year.

In precisely the same manner does the tree continue to vegetate, every year increasing in size and strength, adding to the number of its leafy operatives, and the amount of labor done, until it attains its greatest elevation.

A peculiar alteration in its habit now becomes noticeable. For the sap is no longer expended in the extension of its stem and branches, but in the formation of its flowers and fruit. The period of puberty has arrived, the tree is in the full prime and vigor of life, and the growth of its stem and branches is gradually retarded, the vegetative efforts of each season being absorbed by the reproductive. The tree,

therefore, now preserves pretty much the same landscape character and appearance year after year.

Our readers will now understand that the laborers engaged in building up the tree are its leaves; that these leaves become the parent of buds which develope into families of leafy operatives called shoots; that these shoots form other shoots, which are constructed on the same plan and pattern as themselves; that the families of shoots thus associated, form working communities called branches; and, finally, that the whole tree is built up by the united labors of its branches, which form every year out of the sap new layers of wood and bark, thus adding to the strength and stability of the entire structure.

Such is a brief outline of the building up of the tree-form out of its unit, the first phyton or leaf.

The following reflections naturally suggest themselves, and will we hope be adjudged a suitable close to the present chapter.

A tree commences life under very unfavorable circumstances, surrounded by ten thousand dangers, grows slowly, and has difficulties to contend against at every stage of its progress. Here we have a beautiful illustration of life as it is—a continual struggle against difficulty. All inspire after a better lot: but only a few succeed. These are invariably those who have the most life-energy and perseverance. The first steps in any undertaking are the most difficult; and all solid and enduring advancement is made slowly and imperceptibly. Let this never be forgotten. Pre-eminent talent in any business or profession is of slow growth, and is the result of industry and hard work. One difficulty surmounted leads to the conquest of others. If your aims be high and honorable, do not be discouraged, although your progress may be slow and difficult. Let your motto be onward. There must be no retrograde movement. You have nothing to do with fear; it will retard your progress and defeat you in the attainment of your object. If you are industrious and persevering, if, when you cannot make headway, you carefully guard the advantages which you have already

gained, your success is only a question of time. You may not succeed, but if you are a father, your children may, if brought up properly. Recollect, a tree grows slowly, and becomes a tree despite of storms. Besides, after all, my friend, it is not one continuous storm, for there are occasional glimpses of sunshine to help you along! And you would do well to look at the bright as well as the dark side of things. But storms will assail you: many and many another. It is part of the discipline of life.

A tree extracts nutriment not only from wandering winds, but from "rushing storms;" the most violent "thunder-showers" as well as the silently descending dews have contributed materially to the building up of its fabric. Except in winter, when there is no growth, no vital movement, the course of the tree is upward and onward in all kinds of weather. The wind may roar among its branches, and the rain fall in torrents, but it continues to grow despite these hostile influences, and becomes a great tree at last. The very strength which we admire in a tree has been extracted from a thousand tempests. Storms have already tended to give it stability.

It is ever thus with Nature's really great and noble. They show to the greatest advantage when assailed by storms. These only develope them. How frequently is innate talent brought out through the fear of wanting bread, the, struggle to maintain a family! Individuals so circumstanced usually make the most valuable contributions to literature and the industrial arts. Man would never exert himself, he would live a life of inglorious ease and self-indulgence, he would do nothing to advance either himself or his species, if there were no difficulties in his pathway. He would retrogade, go back to primeval savageism. It is adversity which calls forth the nobility of his nature, and makes him transform every obstacle into a monument of his skill and strength. The wise and noble-minded are ever brave and calm when enemies assail. Conscious of the rectitude of their intentions, they meet the foe with boldness and decision of character, and

the very storm is only a means of developing the intellectual and moral greatness of their nature. To the obscure and crooked ways of their enemies they oppose plain, straightforward conduct; to their calumnies, a pure and blameless life; to their meanness and unfairness, uprightness and honor in all their transactions. It is thus that they grow strong through conflict. Instead of being degraded, they are ennobled by the struggle, elevated in the good opinion of their friends; and like the tree, they derive a permanent advantage from the storm, and look all the better when it has passed.

We have in every tree an illustration of the maxim, "In union there is strength." A few leaves by their united labors form a shoot; and this, by repetition of itself, has produced a great tree. Just as the first shoot was built up by the leaves put forth by the growth of the first season, so the entire tree has been constructed by the labors of those successive generations of leaves with which it was annually adorned. It is true that the roots, by the food which they have taken up from the soil, have contributed their part to the general structure; but the stem and branches have been formed from sap which was first rendered nutritious in leaves. These humble yet perishable forms have been the architects of this noble and enduring structure.

So it is with man. Individually feeble, he becomes powerful by entering into combination with his fellows. Who has measured the magnitude of the earth, the planets, and the sun, and calculated the distance of the stars, by taking the diameter of the earth's orbit as a base line? Who has made to disappear alike the gloomy forest and the poisonous swamp, and produced on their site a landscape smiling with health and fertility? Who has girdled the earth with railroads, drawn down the lightnings from heaven, examined their nature, and given them their appointed channels, uniting the two continents with each other in telegraphic communication? Whose thoughts now traverse the ocean with the rapidity of the

lightning's flash. It is MAN in combination who has done these things. The present state of perfection to which art and science have been carried is the necessary result of the labors of our fathers who have preceded us. The steam engine and electric telegraph are not the product of the present, but of all ages. They are the work of countless human generations; of beings frail and perishable as summer leaves swept by autumnal winds from the trees of the forest. It is thus that the noble tree of science grows-not the deadly Upas, disseminating everywhere poison and death, but the "Tree of Life," whose "leaves are for the healing of the nations."

We may also learn from the tree an impressive lesson of our own frailty. Where are the leaves which built up this massive and majestic tree, which carries in the interior of its stem the monumental history of its life, the impression left by centuries of seasons? And where are the workmen who felled the forest and drained the swamps of Pennsylvania, built her cities and railroads, and spread over her hills and valleys so many scenes of rural industry, peace, and progress? This is the work of former generations, who have passed away like summer leaves from the tree which they were engaged in constructing. We now supply their places, and carry on their labors. We profit by the industry and experience of those human generations which have preceded us. Each industrious man works not only for himself, but for posterity. We contribute a little during the active periods of our life, to the advancement of the science and the civilization of society, and then we pass away and are seen no more here, for"We all do fade as a leaf."

ever.