IN PRAISE OF THE WEYMOUTH 
PINE. 
‘“‘T seelx in the motion of the forest, in the sound of the 
pines, some accents of the eternal language.” 
SENANCOUR. 
cm 
I coup never think it surprising that the 
ancients worshiped trees; that groves were 
believed to be the dwelling places of the 
gods; that Xerxes delighted in the great 
plane-tree of Lydia; that he decked it with 
golden ornaments and appointed for it a 
sentry, one of “the immortal ten thousand. y 
Feelings of this kind are natural; among 
natural men they seem to have been well- 
nigh universal. The wonder is that any 
should be without them. For myself, I can- 
not recollect the day when I did not regard 
the Weymouth pine (the white pine I was 
taught to call it, but now, for reasons of my 
own, I prefer the English name) with some- 
thing like reverence. Especially was this 
true of one, 
stupendous girth and 
