256 TAXACEZ 
The Yew has been always regarded as a longer- 
lived tree than the Oak. Its life is estimated by a 
well-worked-out consensus of opinion (Veitch, Book 
of Conifers) at 1,250 years ; we may presume, how- 
ever, that neither this nor Tennyson’s allusion to its 
‘1,000 years of gloom,”’ nor even the 900 years we 
hear so often assigned to the Oak, need be taken to 
represent anything more than the average limit of 
life, at which the subject in question can only reason- 
ably hope to arrive in a robust state of health. That 
it may linger unhewn and unmolested in a shell-like 
state of decay can hardly be expected to enter into 
these calculations. Elwes recounts that the big 
Yew tree at Tisbury (Wiltshire) contains within 
its hollow trunk a younger stem. A similar instance 
of this hydra-headed growth of a young tree rooted 
in a hollow trunk, rejoicing in all the promise of a 
perpetual youth, occurs at Downton Hall (Ludlow), 
the abode of Sir W. Rouse Boughton, and we daresay 
in many other elsewheres. 
The bewildering question arises to our mind, 
should such a tree, on a matter of age, be reckoned 
as a new tree or as the old tree? If the latter, the 
plant has seemingly succeeded where the alchemist 
of old failed, and discovered the elixir of a perpetually 
prolonged life; or, again, under this condition of 
things, what is to become of the record in longevity 
of our tree life, as a little pleasant and controversial 
topic of conversation among us over our walnuts 
and wine? But revenons @ nos moutons, and to return 
to our subject, the age of trees as propounded by 
authorities. Such airily imposed limitations of 
age, we presume, must not be taken to preclude 
the possibility of a longer existence, any more 
than the Psalmist’s allotment of three-score and 
ten years of life conceded to human frailty must 
be regarded as representing actuarially any final 
~ 
SRERES 
