76 Some Observatio?is on the Oak. 



fourth as long as the radicle ; as though instinctively aware, 

 in embryo, of the howling storms and beating blasts which, 

 in after-life, its massy arms are doomed to contend with. 

 Planters are aware of this circumstance; and, when the 

 acorns are dibbled in beds, they are generally transplanted 

 after the second year's growth ; for, should they remain 

 longer, it is next to impossible to get them up without injury 

 to the taproot; and, if this be done, the plant rarely after- 

 wards thrives well. This is the reason why self-sown trees, 

 particularly the oak, grow better and more freely than those 

 which have been removed. The acorns form the food of some 

 of the gallinaceous birds; and I have commonly observed 

 rooks fly away with them in their bills, and more frequently 

 drop them in their flight, than any other sort of food I have 

 seen them carry, owing, no doubt, to the polished smoothness 

 of the outside capsule ; and I have often observed fields 

 freely planted by this means. About the middle of the merry 

 month of May, generally, the gradual expanding of the 

 crimpy yellowish foliage of the oak presents a most refresh- 

 ing and beautiful feature in our landscape, and gives a rich- 

 ness and mellow relief to the vivid and more dazzling green 

 of the woods ; while its extended and twisted arms, thickly 

 curled and matted branchlets, form a dark and harmonious 

 contrast beneath. It does not, as the sycamore and many 

 other trees of rank and lush foliage, burst suddenly into leaf; 

 but, as the season advances, expands to the blessed and 

 balmy gales, deepened in its tint, and more mature in its 

 aspect. The wood, formerly, when much more* plentiful, was 

 applied to almost all purposes where wood was wanting for 

 durability and strength, particularly of household furniture 

 and building. Few persons, I think, can look without feel- 

 ings of admiration and pleasure on the now blackened, but 

 beautifully carved, wainscoting in some of the ancient halls 

 of our baronial ancestors ; or see the heavy old oak table, 

 with its massive carved legs and framework, without con- 

 juring up in fancy the great wassail bowl circulating round it, 

 amid the boisterous mirth and happy hearts of the rude and 

 merry wassailers. The contrast is very great indeed between 

 this sort of furniture and the flimsy and luxurious kickshaws 

 of a modern hall or drawingroom; where every thing of 

 native growth, worth, or beauty, is kicked out, to make room 

 for foreign tinsel, or something worse. In some of our old 

 churches may be seen fine specimens of the durability of the 

 oak in the great beams and rafters : they, untouched by the 

 tooth of Time, or the burrowing of the worm, have stood for 

 ages; have seen creeds change and dynasties alter, and, pro- 



