We would ask how our author is enabled to assume, as an axiom, that trees produce the best timber in their natural locality? We would also desire some _rational_ information to shew in what manner pruning up can in any way conduce generally, to the increase of the timber, or to the enlargement of one-stemmed vegetables. A tree naturally rises in one stem. It throws out its branches in the disposition most favourable to draw the fullest benefit from the light and air. It of its own {307} accord (that is when man does not meddle), gradually raises its pyramidal centre, with proportional lateral spread, as high as is befitting, for the fullest expansion of the individual, under the circumstances of its location. Man may mar this beautiful natural balance easier than decypher the proximate cause he may throw the new deposit of wood in greater proportion upon the upper part of the stem, rendering his beam more suitable from equality of thickness, and particularly in pines, of cleaner, smaller growthed, more durable timber, thence more valuable. But the tree will neither produce the same quantity of measurable timber in a considerable number of years, nor will it ultimately reach to nearly the same size, nor continue life nearly so long, as when left to itself. Man’s interference is useful in removing competitors, in giving it lateral room for extension, in _training_ it skilfully to one leader and subordinate equality of feeders, should transplanting, early pruning up, or other cause, destroy the natural regular pyramidal disposition—not in pruning it up, thus reducing it to narrower compass, and destroying its balance to the locality. The use of the infinite seedling varieties in the families of plants, even in those in a state of nature, differing in luxuriance of growth and local adaptation, {308} seems to be to give one individual (the strongest best circumstance-suited) superiority over others of its kind around, that it may, by overtopping and smothering them, procure room for full extension, and thus affording, at the same time, a continual selection of the strongest, best circumstance-suited, for reproduction. Man’s interference, by preventing this natural process of selection among plants, independent of the wider range of circumstances to which he introduces them, has increased the difference in varieties, particularly in the more domesticated kinds; and even in man himself, the greater uniformity, and more general vigour among savage tribes, is referrible to nearly similar selecting law—the weaker individual sinking under the ill treatment of the stronger, or under the common hardship. As our author’s premises thus appear neither self-evident, nor supported by facts, it might seem unfair, at least it would be superfluous, to proceed to the consideration of his conclusions and corollaries. {309} VII. CRUICKSHANK’S PRACTICAL PLANTER.