THE

SPIRIT OF THE WOODS.

THE OAK.

QUERCUS ROBUR.

"Happy Britannia!

Rich is thy soil, and merciful thy clime;

Unmatch'd thy guardian oaks."

THE oak is the glory of the British sylva.

What the palm is to the tribes of the desert, and the banian to the inhabitants of the East, such is the oak to Britons. It is our citadel, the basis of our strength; and whilst we possess it,

"Britannia needs no bulwark,

No towers along her steep;

Her march is o'er the mountain waves,

Her home is on the deep.

* B

With thunders from her native oak,

She quells the floods below

As they roar on the shore,

When the stormy tempests blow;

When the battle rages loud and long,
And the stormy tempests blow."

How suitable is its appearance to its destination! It looks as if made to contend with, and surmount, difficulties. Its deep, searching roots, its broad base, stout sinewy limbs, and knotted branches, all bespeak it fitted to war with the elements; whilst the quality of its timber, that of elasticity, toughness, and strength, points out its admirable adaptation to the wants of a naval country. Many kinds of wood," says Gilpin, "are harder, as box and ebony; many kinds are tougher, as yew and ash; but it is supposed no species

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of wood- at least no species of timber is possessed of both these qualities together in so great a degree as British oak." But strength is not the only characteristic in the appearance of the oak: it combines beauty with strength; and the result is, a lordly dignity of aspect, which entitles it to be

"Sole king of forests all."

Virgil describes the oak, not only with the glow of a

poet, but with the precision of a naturalist; every peculiarity is noticed, and with such effect, that his description has the vividness and reality of a painting. Our own poets, in unnumbered passages, many of them of great beauty, have done homage to this tree; but to select from so ample a store would be a work of time and labour; to quote all, a thing impossible.

The oak is remarkable for its slowness of growth, and amazing longevity. It lives to a patriarchal age, well deserving the emphatic epithet of "monumental oak," bestowed on it by Milton, and the more pompous title of Cowper

"Lord of the woods, the long-surviving oak."

Computing the years it has numbered by the concentric rings or layers of wood, each of which records a year, some of them carry us back many centuries. Evelyn and Gilpin, those biographers of the forest, mention several instances of remarkable longevity. The latter, indeed, speaks of "a few venerable oaks in the New Forest, that chronicle on their furrowed trunks ages before the conquest." To these authors we refer our readers for all the various legends, historical or fanciful,

connected with the different sylvan worthies of this tribe, which have done honour to our woods.

There may be something fanciful in Shenstone's comparison between this noble tree and our national character; but as it is complimentary, and, on the whole, tolerably correct, it shall have a place here. "Oaks," says he, "are in all respects the image of the manly character: in former times, I should have said, and in present times I think I am authorised to say, the British one. As a brave man is not suddenly either elated by prosperity, or depressed by adversity, so the oak displays not its verdure on the sun's first approach, nor drops it on his first departure: add to this its majestic appearance, the rough grandeur of its bark, and the wide protection of its branches. A large, spreading, aged oak is, perhaps, the most venerable of all inanimate objects."

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Independently of its more valuable qualities, the true

unwedgable and gnarled oak" of Shakspeare is the most picturesque of all the trees which adorn real English scenery. "It refuses no subject either in. natural or artificial landscape. It is suited to the grandest, and may be introduced into the most pastoral and even rustic, scene:

Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes
From betwixt two aged oaks.'

It adds dignity to the ruined tower and Gothic arch, and throws its arms with propriety over the purling brook, or the mantling pool."

To crown its other excellencies, as has been already observed, no tree can bear up so well against the tempest; indeed, it is supposed to acquire greater stability of root from every contest with the elements, and to thrive

"E'en by the rude concussion of the storm."

"Mark yonder oaks! superior to the power

Of all the warring winds of heaven they rise,

And from the stormy promontory tower

And toss their giant arms amid the skies,

While each assailing blast increase of strength supplies."

We are reminded by this noble characteristic of a spirited passage in one of the best periodicals of the day:

"Those old oaks seem sullen in the sunshine, and slow to put forth their power, like the spirit of the land they emblem. But they, too, are relaxing from their wonted sternness : soon will that faint green be a glorious yellow; and while the gold-laden boughs stoop boldly to the