64 FOOTNOTES FROM 



alone in such a dreary place, multiplied with startling 

 distinctness through the forest as they pass along from 

 echo to echo. Perhaps a red-deer stands gazing at you, 

 with large inquiring eyes, at the end of a long vista be- 

 tween the red trunks of the trees ; but as you gaze, it 

 glides away into a deeper solitude as noiselessly and as 

 mysteriously as it came ; and the very sunbeams, that 

 elsewhere dance and sport with the wavering shadows, 

 and chase each other in long links of golden light over 

 the mossy sward, creep through the dense canopy over- 

 head, and down the lichened trunks slowly and hesitat- 

 ingly, as though, like children who stand at the mouth 

 of some grim yawning cavern, they longed yet dreaded 

 to enter. How applicable to this weird scene is the 

 graphic description of an American forest, with which 

 Longfellow opens his beautiful poem of "Evangeline" 



" This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the 



hemlocks, 

 Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct in the 



twilight, 



Stand like Druids of old, with voices sad and prophetic ; 

 Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their bosoms." 



We are more indebted to the humble lichens for the 

 charming romance of our sylvan scenery than we ima- 

 gine ; for we are apt to overlook the minute plants by 

 which much of the effect is produced. All who have 

 any taste or poetical feeling whatever, admire the con- 

 spicuous beauties of a wood the clouds of green foliage 

 overhead, the endless ramifications of the branches, the 

 massiveness and elegance of the trunks, and the softness 

 and richness of the grassy carpet underneath ; but there 

 are few, comparatively, who pay any attention to those 



