i86 ARBOR DAY 



line and dibble ; she takes no note of formal arrange- 

 ments, or of the "line of beauty," or of direct adap- 

 tation of means to ends. She shakes all things 

 together, as in a dice-box, and as they fall out there 

 they remain, growing crooked or straight, mean 

 or magnificent, beautiful or ugly, but adapted by 

 the infinite variety of their forms and dispositions 

 to the wants and habits of all creatures. 



The beauty of trees is something that exists chiefly 

 in our imagination. We admire them for their 

 evident adaptation to purposes of shade and shelter. 

 Some of them we regard as symbols or images of 

 a fine poetic sentiment. Such are the slender wil- 

 lows and poplars, that remind us of grace and refine- 

 ment, becoming the emblems of some agreeable 

 moral affection, or the embodiment of some strik- 

 ing metaphor. Thus Coleridge personifies the 

 white birch as the "Lady of the Woods," and the 

 oak by other poets is called the monarch, and the 

 ash the Venus of the forest. The weeping willow, 

 beautiful on account of its graceful spray, becomes 

 still more so when regarded as the emblem of sorrow. 

 The oak, in like manner, is interesting as the symbol 

 of strength and fortitude. A young fir-tree always 

 reminds us of primness; hence the name spruce, 

 which is applied to many of the species, is a word 

 used to express formality. The cedar of Lebanon 

 would be viewed by all with a certain romantic 

 interest, on account of the frequent mention of it in 



