THE OAK. 91 



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have two parts exactly alike, yet everywhere repeti- 

 tion and reverberation to the ear that knows how to 

 listen. Flowers are not necessarily sumptuous, and 

 fragrant, and brilliant-hued in order to be flowers. 

 The idea of a flower implies simply an elegant mech- 

 anism for the production of seed, and that this be 

 large or small is of no more importance than that the 

 heavenly teachings should be printed in one kind of 

 type or another. It is worthy of note also that the 

 great timber-trees of the North are remarkable, as a 

 rule, for the insignificance of their flowers. The 

 short-lived vegetation of the field and garden, seems 

 decked with its sweet flower-brightness in compensa- 

 tion. Where our hearts are to be lifted up in admira- 

 tion of strength and patriarchal majesty, the allure- 

 ment of flowers can be dispensed with. Those of the 

 oak, as said above, make their appearance contempora- 

 neously with the young leaves, and under two differ- 

 ent forms. First, there are innumerable yellowish 

 tufts and fringes depending from near the extremities 

 of the twigs ; among them are the tips of the rudi- 

 ments of the future acorns, scarcely larger than the 

 head of a pin, and of a deep red color. 



The oak is thus one of the trees in which the dis- 

 tinction of sex is strongly marked. All plants ex- 

 press, in some way or other, the omnipresence in or- 

 ganic nature of masculine and feminine. But it is not 

 always palpable to the eye. Some philosophers con- 



