IN PRAISE OF THE WE Y MOUTH PINE. 237 



look abashed at being dragged thus un- 

 expectedly and inappropriately into broad 

 daylight. If I were to see the householder 

 lifting his axe against one of them I think 

 I should not say, "Woodman, spare that 

 tree! " Let it go to the fire, the sooner the 

 better, and be out of its misery. 



Not that I blame the tree, or the power 

 that made it what it is. The forest, like 

 every other community, prospers we may 

 rather say exists at the expense of indi- 

 vidual perfection. But the expense is true 

 economy, for, however it may be in ethics, 

 in a3sthetics the end justifies the means. 

 The solitary pine, unhindered, symmetrical, 

 green to its lowermost twig, as it rises out 

 of the meadow or stands a-tiptoe on the 

 rocky ledge, is a thing of beauty, a pleasure 

 to every eye. A pity and a shame that it 

 should not be more common ! But the pine 

 forest, dark, spacious, slumberous, musical! 

 Here is something better than beauty, dearer 

 than pleasure. When we enter this cathe- 

 dral, unless we enter it unworthily, we speak 

 not of such things. Every tree may be im- 

 perfect, with half its branches dead for want 

 of room or want of sun, but until the dev- 



