The Crown of Wild Olive
which the branches leave the great stem; and thus each section of the
tree would present a kind of magnified view of its own leaf, were it not
for the interfering force of gravity on the masses of foliage. This
force in proportion to their age, and the lateral leverage upon them,
bears them downwards at the extremities, so that, as before noticed, the
lower the bough grows on the stem, the more it droops (Fig. 17, p.
295.); besides this, nearly all beautiful trees have a tendency to
divide into two or more principal masses, which give a prettier and more
complicated symmetry than if one stem ran all the way up the centre.
Fig. 41. may thus be considered the simplest type of tree radiation, as
opposed to leaf radiation. In this figure, however, all secondary
ramification is unrepresented, for the sake of simplicity; but if we
take one half of such a tree, and merely give two secondary branches to
each main branch (as represented in the general branch structure shown
at _b_, Fig. 18., p. 296), we shall have the form, Fig. 42. This I
consider the perfect general type of tree structure; and it is curiously
connected with certain forms of Greek, Byzantine, and Gothic
ornamentation, into the discussion of which, however, we must not enter
here. It will be observed, that both in Figs. 41. and 42. all the
branches so spring from the main stem as very nearly to suggest their
united radiation from the root R. This is by no means universally the
case; but if the branches do not bend towards a point in the root, they
at least converge to some point or other. In the examples in Fig. 43.,
the mathematical centre of curvature, _a_, is thus, in one case, on the
ground at some distance from the root, and in the other, near the top of
the tree. Half, only, of each tree is given, for the sake of clearness:
Fig. 44. gives both sides of another example, in which the origins of
curvature are below the root. As the positions of such points may be
varied without end, and as the arrangement of the lines is also farther
complicated by the fact of the boughs springing for the most part in a
spiral order round the tree, and at proportionate distances, the systems
of curvature which regulate the form of vegetation are quite infinite.
Infinite is a word easily said, and easily written, and people do not
always mean it when they say it; in this case I _do_ mean it; the number
of systems is incalculable, and even to furnish any thing like a
representative number of types, I should have to give several hundreds
of figures such as Fig. 44.[251]
Thus far, however, we have only been speaking of the great relations of
stem and branches. The forms of the branches themselves are regulated by
still more subtle laws, for they occupy an intermediate position between
the form of the tree and of the leaf. The leaf has a flat ramification;
the tree a completely rounded one; the bough is neither rounded nor
flat, but has a structure exactly balanced between the two, in a
half-flattened, half-rounded flake, closely resembling in shape one of
the thick leaves of an artichoke or the flake of a fir cone; by
combination forming the solid mass of the tree, as the leaves compose
the artichoke head. I have before pointed out to you the general
resemblance of these branch flakes to an extended hand; but they may be
more accurately represented by the ribs of a boat. If you can imagine a
very broad-headed and flattened boat applied by its keel to the end of a
main branch,[252] as in Fig. 45., the lines which its ribs will take,
and the general contour of it, as seen in different directions, from
above and below; and from one side and another, will give you the
closest approximation to the perspectives and foreshortenings of a
well-grown branch-flake. Fig. 25. above, page 316., is an unharmed and
unrestrained shoot of healthy young oak; and if you compare it with Fig.
45., you will understand at once the action of the lines of leafage; the
boat only failing as a type in that its ribs are too nearly parallel to
each other at the sides, while the bough sends all its ramification well
forwards, rounding to the head, that it may accomplish its part in the
outer form of the whole tree, yet always securing the compliance with
the great universal law that the branches nearest the root bend most
back; and, of course, throwing _some_ always back as well as forwards;
the appearance of reversed action being much increased, and rendered
more striking and beautiful, by perspective. Figure 25. shows the
perspective of such a bough as it is seen from below; Fig. 46. gives
rudely the look it would have from above.
You may suppose, if you have not already discovered, what subtleties of
perspective and light and shade are involved in the drawing of these
branch-flakes, as you see them in different directions and actions; now
raised, now depressed; touched on the edges by the wind, or lifted up
and bent back so as to show all the white under surfaces of the leaves
shivering in light, as the bottom of a boat rises white with spray at
the surge-crest; or drooping in quietness towards the dew of the grass
beneath them in windless mornings, or bowed down under oppressive grace
of deep-charged snow. Snow time, by the way, is one of the best for
practice in the placing of tree masses; but you will only be able to
understand them thoroughly by beginning with a single bough and a few
leaves placed tolerably even, as in Fig. 38. page 372. First one with
three leaves, a central and two lateral ones, as at _a_; then with five,
as at _b_, and so on; directing your whole attention to the expression,
both by contour and light and shade, of the boat-like arrangements,
which in your earlier studies, will have been a good deal confused,
partly owing to your inexperience, and partly to the depth of shade, or
absolute blackness of mass required in those studies.
One thing more remains to be noted, and I will let you out of the wood.
You see that in every generally representative figure I have surrounded
the radiating branches with a dotted line: such lines do indeed
terminate every vegetable form; and you see that they are themselves
beautiful curves, which, according to their flow, and the width or
narrowness of the spaces they enclose, characterize the species of tree
or leaf, and express its free or formal action, its grace of youth or
weight of age. So that, throughout all the freedom of her wildest
foliage, Nature is resolved on expressing an encompassing limit; and
marking a unity in the whole tree, caused not only by the rising of its
branches from a common root, but by their joining in one work, and being
bound by a common law. And having ascertained this, let us turn back for
a moment to a point in leaf structure which, I doubt not, you must
already have observed in your earlier studies, but which it is well to
state here, as connected with the unity of the branches in the great
trees. You must have noticed, I should think, that whenever a leaf is
compound,--that is to say, divided into other leaflets which in any way
repeat or imitate the form of the whole leaf,--those leaflets are not
symmetrical as the whole leaf is, but always smaller on the side towards
the point of the great leaf, so as to express their subordination to it,
and show, even when they are pulled off, that they are not small
independent leaves, but members of one large leaf.
Fig. 47., which is a block-plan of a leaf of columbine, without its
minor divisions on the edges, will illustrate the principle clearly. It
is composed of a central large mass, A, and two lateral ones, of which
the one on the right only is lettered, B. Each of these masses is again
composed of three others, a central and two lateral ones; but observe,
the minor one, _a_ of A, is balanced equally by its opposite; but the
minor _b_1 of B is larger than its opposite _b_2. Again, each of these
minor masses is divided into three; but while the central mass, A of A,
is symmetrically divided, the B of B is unsymmetrical, its largest
side-lobe being lowest. Again _b_2, the lobe _c_1 (its lowest lobe in
relation to B) is larger than _c_2; and so also in _b_1. So that
universally one lobe of a lateral leaf is always larger than the other,
and the smaller lobe is that which is nearer the central mass; the lower
leaf, as it were by courtesy, subduing some of its own dignity or
power, in the immediate presence of the greater or captain leaf; and
always expressing, therefore, its own subordination and secondary
character. This law is carried out even in single leaves. As far as I
know, the upper half, towards the point of the spray, is always the
smaller; and a slightly different curve, more convex at the springing,
is used for the lower side, giving an exquisite variety to the form of
the whole leaf; so that one of the chief elements in the beauty of every
subordinate leaf throughout the tree, is made to depend on its
confession of its own lowliness and subjection.
And now, if we bring together in one view the principles we have
ascertained in trees, we shall find they may be summed under four great
laws; and that all perfect[253] vegetable form is appointed to express
these four laws in noble balance of authority.
1. Support from one living root.
2. Radiation, or tendency of force from some one given point, either in
the root, or in some stated connexion with it.
3. Liberty of each bough to seek its own livelihood and happiness
according to its needs, by irregularities of action both in its play and
its work, either stretching out to get its required nourishment from
light and rain, by finding some sufficient breathing-place among the
other branches, or knotting and gathering itself up to get strength for
any load which its fruitful blossoms may lay upon it, and for any stress
of its storm-tossed luxuriance of leaves; or playing hither and thither
as the fitful sunshine may tempt its young shoots, in their undecided
states of mind about their future life.
4. Imperative requirement of each bough to stop within certain limits,
expressive of its kindly fellowship and fraternity with the boughs in
its neighborhood; and to work with them according to its power,
magnitude, and state of health, to bring out the general perfectness of
the great curve, and circumferent stateliness of the whole tree.
I think I may leave you, unhelped, to work out the moral analogies of
these laws; you may, perhaps, however, be a little puzzled to see the
meeting of the second one. It typically expresses that healthy human
actions should spring radiantly (like rays) from some single heart
motive; the most beautiful systems of action taking place when this
motive lies at the root of the whole life, and the action is clearly
seen to proceed from it; while also many beautiful secondary systems of
action taking place from motives not so deep or central, but in some
beautiful subordinate connexion with the central or life motive.
The other laws, if you think over them, you will find equally
significative; and as you draw trees more and more in their various
states of health and hardship, you will be every day more struck by the
beauty of the types they present of the truths most essential for
mankind to know;[254] and you will see what this vegetation of the
earth, which is necessary to our life, first, as purifying the air for
us and then as food, and just as necessary to our joy in all places of
the earth,--what these trees and leaves, I say, are meant to teach us as
we contemplate them, and read or hear their lovely language, written or