Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 8, No. 46, August, 1861 | Page 9

it has been poetically styled the "Garlands of Death," as significant of
the fevers that prevail wherever it is abundant.
It is remarkable that the two extremes of climate are distinguished by
the predominance of evergreens in their vegetation. Thus, the
acicular-leaved trees, consisting of Pines and their congeners, mark the
cold-temperate and sub-arctic zones, in north latitude,--while Myrtles,
Magnolias, and other broad-leaved evergreens, mark the equatorial and
tropical regions. The deciduous trees belong properly to the temperate
zones, and constitute, indeed, the most interesting of all arborescent
vegetation.
With regard to the age of forests, it may be affirmed that there are some
undoubtedly in existence which are coeval with the earliest history of
nations; but no individual trees are of such antiquity. Like nations, the
assemblage may be perpetual, while the members that compose it are
constantly perishing, and leaving their places to be supplied by others
of more recent origin. Probably the earth does not contain forests in
which any tree exceeds a thousand years of age, though the oldest
forest extant may be as ancient as the Chinese Empire; for the oldest
trees are not found in dense assemblages, but are probably such as have
grown singly in isolated situations. As soon as a tree in a forest begins
to feel the infirmities of age, its place is usurped by some young and
more vigorous neighbor, and it is gradually deprived of subsistence in
this unequal contest. The tempests and tornadoes, it may be added,
which occasionally sweep over a country, commonly make the oldest
and tallest trees their victims; for events seem to follow the same
course in a forest as in human society. The most vigorous growers at
any period continue to flourish a certain length of time at the expense
of others; but when they have risen above the common level, they
become marks for destruction,--they fall before certain inimical forces
that do not reach their more humble companions.
It was the opinion of Humboldt, that, if any tract of wooded country
deserves to be considered a part of the great "primeval forest", it is
"that boundless district which, in the torrid zone of South America,
connects the river-basins of the Amazon and the Orinoco." This tract,
unequalled in extent by any other forest in the world, occupies an area

of more than a thousand miles square. In this vast chaos of teeming
vegetation, trees of the largest dimensions are connected by an
undergrowth of vines and shrubbery which is almost impenetrable.
Immense rivers and their tributaries intersect the forest in all directions,
and constitute the only avenues of commercial intercourse. This
impervious thicket is like a huge wall, separating near neighbors,
rendering them, as it were, inhabitants of distant regions, and obliging
them to make long and circuitous river journeys before they can hold
communication.
Here the leaves of the trees are always green, and flowers appear in
constant succession; but the surface of the ground is without herbage,
for the darkness of the wood is fatal to all humble vegetation. The small
plants are mostly parasites, thousands inserting their roots into the bark
of trees and garlanding them with beauty. Those that take root in the
ground show but few leaves or flowers, until they have clambered
upwards, through the underwood, into the light of heaven. Almost the
only relief afforded the sight, in this vast solitude, comes from the
rivers and other collections of water, over whose expanse the eye revels
with the delight we feel on emerging from the gloom of a cavern. Every
object seems to be struggling to get outside of this chaotic growth,
where it can obtain the genial influence of the sun: for near the surface
of the ground are perpetual shade and hideous entanglement.
In this primeval forest we must not expect to realize any of our poetical
ideas of the primitive residence of the first human family. Here are no
Arcadian scenes of peace and rural felicity. On all sides we behold an
undying competition for light and life, among both plants and animals.
We are reminded here of life in a crowded city, where the excessive
abundance of supplies for human wants imported from the surrounding
country causes a still greater superfluity of population, and produces a
struggle for a livelihood more severe than in a rural district of gravel
and boulders. The oases of this great wilderness are those places in
which there is an absence of the general fertility: barrenness in such
circumstances is a relief,--because it allows both freedom and repose.
This wood is the nursery of all descriptions of monsters, living chiefly
in trees. On their branches and in their tangled recesses, adorned with
all sorts of foliage and flowers, creatures the most terrible and the most
loathsome are