ravine. Amid desolate scenery it spreads a cheerfulness that detracts
nothing from its power over the imagination, while it relieves it of its
terrors by presenting a green bulwark to defend us from the elements.
Nothing can be more cheerful in scenery than the occasional groups of
Pines which have come up spontaneously on the bald hills near our coast,
elsewhere a dreary waste of gray rocks, stunted shrubbery, and prostrate
Juniper. In the forest the White Pine constitutes the very sanctuary of
Nature, its tall pillars extending into the clouds, and its broad canopy
of foliage mixing with the vapors that descend in the storm.

Such are its picturesque aspects: but in a figurative light it may be
regarded as a true symbol of benevolence. Under its outspread roof,
thousands of otherwise unprotected animals, nestling in the bed of dry
leaves which it has spread upon the ground, find shelter and repose. The
squirrel subsists upon the kernels obtained from its cones; the rabbit
browses upon the Trefoil and the spicy foliage of the Hypericum which
are protected in its conservatory of shade; and the fawn reposes on its
brown couch of leaves, unmolested by the outer tempest. From its green
arbors the quails may be roused in midwinter, when they resort thither
to find the still sound berries of the Mitchella and the Wintergreen.
Nature, indeed, seems to have designed this tree to protect the animal
creation, both in summer and winter, and I am persuaded that she has not
conferred upon them a more beneficent gift.

As an object of sight, the White Pine is free from some of the defects
of the Fir and Spruce, having none of their stiffness of foliage and
inflexibility of spray, that cause them to resemble artificial objects.
It has the symmetry of the Fir, joined with a certain flowing grace that
assimilates it to the deciduous trees. With sufficient amplitude to
conceal a look of primness that often arises from symmetry, we observe a