i|)acreel_ (5\rov9e/". 77 



temples themselves. Pliny, speaking of groves, says: "These 

 were of old the temples of the gods ; and after that simple but 

 ancient custom, men at this day consecrate the fairest and 

 goodliest trees to some deity or other; nor do we more adore our 

 glittering shrines of gold and ivory than the groves in which, with 

 profound and awful silence, we worship them." Ancient writers 

 often refer to "vocal forests," — in their sombre and gloomy re- 

 cesses, the frighted wayfarer imagined, as the wind soughed and 

 rustled through the dense foliage, that the tree spirits were hum- 

 ming some sportive lay, or — perchance more frequently — chant- 

 ing weirdly some solemn dirge. The grove which surrounded 

 Jupiter's Temple at Dodona was supposed to be endowed with 

 the gift of prophecy, and oracles were frequently there delivered 

 by the sacred Oaks. 



"Due honours once Dodona's forest had, 

 When oracles were through the Oaks conveyed. 

 When woods instructed j)rophets to foretel. 

 And the decrees of fate in trees did dwell." 



In course of time each tree of these sacred groves was held to 

 be tenanted, or presided over, either by a god or goddess, or by 

 one of the sylvan semi-deities. Impious was deemed he who 

 dared to profane the sanctity of one of these nemorous retreats, 

 either by damaging or by felling the consecrated trees. Rapin, in 

 his Latin poem on Gardens, says : 



• " But let no impious axe profane the woods, 

 Or violate the sacred shades ; the Gods 

 Themselves inhabit there. Some have beheld 

 Where drops of blood from wounded Oaks distill'd ; 

 Have seen the trembling boughs with horror shake ! 

 So great a conscience did the ancients make 

 To cut down Oaks, that it was held a crime 

 In that obscure and superstitious time. 

 When Driopeius Heaven did provoke. 

 By daring to destroy th' /ICmonian Oak, 

 And with it its included Dryad too, 

 Avenging Ceres then her faith did show 

 To the wrong'd nymph." 



When threatened with the woodman's axe, the tutelary genius 

 of the doomed tree would intercede for its life, the very leaves 

 would sigh and groan, the stalwart trunk tremble with horror, 

 Ovid relates how Erisichthon, a Thessalian, who derided Ceres, 

 and cut down the trees in her sacred groves, was, for his impiety, 

 afflicted with perpetual hunger. Of one huge old Oak the poet 

 says — 



"In the cool dusk its unpierc'd verdure spread 

 The Dryads oft their hallow'd dances led." 



But the vindictive Erisichthon bade his hesitating servants fell 

 the venerable tree, and, dissatisfied with their speed, seized an 



