68 FOREST TREES OF CALIFORNIA. 



twenty to fort}' feet long, of nearly uniform size, like large 

 curtain cords, somewhat simulating the Weeping Willow; 

 but not with the despairing drop of the sad willows of 

 Babylon; nay, rather draping robes of royalty, resting in 

 humble repose, or reaching lowly the leading-strings — fit em- 

 blems of science applied — to lead and lift the lowliest son of 

 earth, and though the great head be among the entanglings 

 of the thick boughs, and his brow crowned with garlands of 

 useful service, and there the great eagle builds her nest in 

 the heights and gathers under her shadow, yet may the 

 feeblest child also pillow its head on the little branchlets, 

 beneath, light with leaf, and tenderly sheltered with shade — 

 meanwhile the still soft voice of silence hushing to peace. 



This great White Oak of the Pacific has white bark, 

 loosely cuboid-checked, often quite rough, and similarly far 

 extended upon the limbs, is often scattered here and there, 

 park-like, or growing in groups on the low hills, river banks, 

 in the valleys, and on the plains. These massive low and 

 broad herculean colonnades often rest on the neatest lawn, 

 sole occupants as far as the eye can reach. Relatively speak- 

 ing, these oaks divide low into many huge branches, spread- 

 ing as described, fifty to sixty feet each way, well balanced 

 on the main body — with much diversity, also, do they often 

 sweep upwards and outwards with symmetrical spreading 

 top. The whitish-gray bark is shared by other oaks, but none 

 have such long and slender acorns, as observed, three inches 

 by one half to three quarters of an inch in diameter, 

 sharply cone-pointed, nutshell thinner, smooth inside, and 

 the tiny abortive bottle-shaped ovules sub-erect, etc. As these 

 generations of men and oaks pass swiftly away, we hasten to 

 record, lest self-conceiters arise upon the scene, denying obser- 

 vation and experience not their own; to them, neither these 

 trees, those scenes, nor the sweetest ecstatic bliss of celestial 

 Indian Summers, that tongues are powerless to utter or pens 

 portray, forsooth now no more, and because they never saw, 

 therefore never were nor could be before; "offspring of a 

 fervid imagination;" as if Nature herself were not now and 

 forever a thousand times more poetical than any poet, and 

 more philosophical than any and all philosophers. Perhaps 

 even now it is impossible to realize the extreme elegance and 

 the wonderful wealth of foliage that characterized some of 

 these choicest primeval and lofty types of the land. Thanks 

 to the faithful photograph, we are not left to pen without a 

 witness. Contemplate, then, that Napa Oak, for which we 

 have full oft' paid the last mite for friends, and tell uaJf, 

 with the Queen of Sheba, the half had been told. We 

 repeat again, with ever increasing emphasis, our wonder at 

 the wealth of foliage, massed above, curtained below, pour- 

 ing, with unparalled bounty, foliage on foliage, in great 



