Having thus briefly introduced to the reader, an outline of the character of Mr. Daniel Day, who in the latter part of his life was called “Old Daniel Day,” we will proceed to say a few words of his favourite Oak.—This venerable and stupendous tree stood in Hainault Forest, about 10 miles from London, 3 from Ilford, and 2 from the village of Chigwell, in Essex. The trunk, or main stem, of this giant of the forest measured, about a yard from the ground, 36 feet in circumference! From this issued 11 vast arms, each of the dimensions of a tree of moderate growth. In the meridian of the day, about 60 years ago, it is said that its shadow extended over nearly an acre of ground! This tree was, about the year 1800, fenced round with a close paling, above five feet high, almost all the extremities of its branches sawed off, and Mr. Forsyth’s composition applied to them, to preserve them from decay; and the injury which the trunk of the tree had sustained from the lighting of fires in the cavities, was repaired, as much as possible, by the same composition. At the same time, on one of the branches, was fixed a board, with this inscription: “All good Foresters are requested not to hurt this old Tree, a plaster having been lately applied to its wounds.” The rabble, however, regardless of the respect due to the veteran of the Forest, soon broke down the paling, lighted fires within the trunk, as heretofore, and in consequence, before long, several of the limbs were broken quite off. On the 25th of June, 1805, this famous Oak was discovered to be on fire, occasioned by a party of sixty persons, who came from London in several carriages during the morning, and amused themselves through the day with playing at cricket and other sports; they had kindled a fire, which had spread very considerably after they left the spot, but it was not discovered for two hours. A number of persons came with water to extinguish the flames, which was not effected until the main branch on the south side, with part of the body, was consumed. The high winds of February 1820, however, stretched its massy trunk and limbs on that turf which it had for so many ages overshadowed with its verdant foliage; and thus it exhibited a melancholy memento of the irresistable power of time in bringing to an end not only the flower of a season, but also the towering growth of many ages. The remains of the Fairlop Oak were purchased by Mr. Seabrooke, the builder of St. Pancras Church, and both the magnificent pulpits of that church were formed out of it, and they are certainly the most beautiful of their kind to be met with.