It is doubtful if any writer of prose or poetry ever had the graphic power to vivify rural scenery with a reality so true to nature as had the gifted Burns, and his happiest efforts are often manifested when delineating the wild and picturesque scenes so peculiar to the romantic features of Caledonia. His ardent admiration for trees and flowers, is often expressed with a fervor akin to adoration; and the " milk-white hawthorn bush" seems especially to have been one of his arboreal favorites. And with a descriptive eloquence unsurpassed, how exquisitely in poetic metaphor he pictures an old hawthorn, as it appeared to his vivid imagination in the gray dawn of the early morning, and charmingly invests it with an interest bordering on veneration. As an instance of his felicity of expression, I quote his sentimental allusion to the hawthorn, in the idiom of Bonnie Scotland - "The hawthorn I will pu', wi' its lucks o' siller gray, When like an aged man it stands at break o' day."

His comparison of an ancient thorn, drooping like an old man with the weight of years, is an apt one. And whoever has looked upon one, after the manner of the poet, will readily recognize in the imagery the bending form of a gray-haired sire, and possibly the ideal of "John Anderson, my Jo, John," whose "locks are like the snaw."

It occurred to the writer when examining some very old hawthorns while in England, in 1881, how much several of them bore a resemblance to Burns' figurative tree.

It was on a blithe May morning, "when nature painted all things gay," I quietly meandered along a well-worn foot-path, by the side of hedgerows flecked with pretty flowers, and which in irregular lines divided the green meadows, to a spot where I had, when a little urchin attending school, spent many a happy hour. The same old hawthorns I had in boyish eagerness often climbed up to gather the red ripe haws from, were still growing there, and to all appearance as vigorous as they were more than fifty years ago. The destructive ringers of time seemed to have touched them gently, and during the long interval which has elapsed since I last saw them, their familiar features had scarcely changed. And yet, while remaining the same old trees I knew in days gone by, there was undoubtedly an increase in the circumference of their deep furrowed trunks, the largest of which measured more than eight feet in girt. On this occasion the heads of these venerable old thorns were each beautifully covered with its annual crown of white blossoms, so fragrant and fair. And as I viewed their well-remembered forms, the floodgates of memory seemed to open and pour out the pent-up recollections of the many strange mutations of the past.

To secure a souvenir seemed as natural as the suggestive language of Burns was to prompt my desire " to pu' its locks of siller gray," which I devotedly did, to keep in remembrance.

The verdant fields were prettily bespangled with a variety of spring flowers, from which I brushed the morning's dew, as I leisurely left the old haunts of my youthful days. Continuing my pleasant peregrinations, I soon reached Dunstall Park, to view the handsome groups of the various species of hawthorn for which it is famous.

In this paper I shall omit mentioning the usual variety of interesting large-sized old forest trees, and splendid collections of ornamental low trees and shrubs, or beautiful landscape effects usually found in such like places, and confine my remarks to the very comely kinds of Crataegus oxyacantha, or poet's hawthorn, which pleased me most of all.. And methought, as I looked around, how gratified must be the owner of such exquisite scenes, " where every prospect pleases."

Near by where I stood were several thrifty handsome common English hawthorns, which have been the subject of many a sentimental theme by both ancient and modern writers, with whom it always seems to have been a favorite. A little distance off grew some excellent specimens of C. o. alba plena, or double white thorns, and pure and pretty indeed are its superb companions, C. o. rubra plena, or double scarlet, with its single sister, the well-known C. o. coccinea, or common scarlet thorn, which is an old and much admired little tree; while another member of this interesting family is C. o. rosea, whose rosy blush is not so high colored as the two preceding kinds, and of which the planter had made liberal use in the extensive park around. Another red variety of striking appearance, known as C. o. rubra splen-dens - well named, and of vigorous growth - made pretty clusters here and there, while near by the margin of an ornamental lake, standing singly, was a bush of the' very distinct C. o. Douglasii. Its peculiar though pleasing habit will always secure it a place where only a few kinds are grown.

Its handsome foliage and great profusion of flowers and fruit enhance its value.

Among these most effective park or lawn ornaments, I noticed C. o. filicifolia, or fern-leaved thorn, a very curious kind; and C. o. variegata, which specially commends itself in either of its three interesting phases of foliage, flowers and fruit. C. o." rotundifolia, a round-leaved kind, formed very pretty objects, as did the more robust C. o. grandiflora, with flowers grand enough for either bridal wreaths or May coronal. C. o. tana-cetifolia, the tansy-leaved kind, was one of the many remarkable varieties around me. And forming agreeable contrasts with their interesting compeers, was a fine specimen of C. o. platyphylla, with its handsome broad leaves, and C. o. macro-carpa, remarkable for its large haws and excellent habit.

There were several other beautiful kinds interspersed about and worthy of mention, but to avoid being tedious to the patient reader, will refer to but two others, C. o. stricta, which assumes a close, upright form of growth, and its contrasting companion, C. o. pendula, of drooping or pendulous habit. There were many fine examples of American species, but having previously referred to and described them in the November Monthly of 1881, will conclude my remarks with the type I began with.

That the neat and graceful hawthorn should elicit admiration from all intelligent beholders is not surprising, when we consider how much its picturesque form has contributed to make replete the charm of many a fine landscape. And that scenes of social enjoyment and domestic happiness should often occur about them, is most natural. Being such a companionable little tree, frequently found about our homes, we are apt to regard it with kindly feelings wherever seen, as a reminder of some cherished spot. And when found, as we often come upon it in the seclusion of some forest recess or deep sequestered glen, where its extreme loneliness claims attention, we feel as though we had discovered an old familiar friend. And while poetic lays, romantic legends, pleasing narrative and authentic history have the power to charm, will the legend of the Glastonbury thorn ever fail to interest the reader.

In quoting the following account from Loudon's Arboretum et Frutticetum, of 1854, I will briefly premise it with the statement that I have been a frequent witness to the peculiarity of the remarkable subject at issue, having seen it bearing blossoms and fruit at the same time in December, January, February, March, April and May.* It is known as C.o.proecox, the early flowering or Glastonbury thorn, and which, according to the Romish legend, once formed the staff of Joseph of Arimathea, and still exists within the precincts of the ancient Abbey of Glastonbury :

"It is said that Joseph of Arimathea, after the burial of Christ, came to England, attended by twelve companions, to found the first Christian church in this island, and guided by Divine impulse he proceeded to Glastonbury for that purpose. It was Christmas day when he arrived at the spot where he had been commanded to build a church to the honor of the Virgin Mary, and finding that the natives did not appear inclined to believe in his mission, he prayed to God to perform a miracle, to convince them. His prayer was immediately answered, and, striking his staff into the ground, it immediately shot forth into leaves and blossoms. And still blossoms annually on Christmas day."

While dwelling on this romantic subject, I cannot refrain from giving the historical account of the C. o. regina, Queen Mary's thorn. "The parent tree is in a garden near Edinburg, which once belonged to the Regent Murray. It is very old, and its branches have somewhat of a drooping character. The tree is thirty-three feet high; the trunk divides into two limbs at fifteen inches from the ground, one of which is one foot four inches in diameter, and the other one foot. The tree is healthy and vigorous, though if it be true Queen Mary sat under its shade, it must be nearly three hundred years old."

*A11 of the many hawthorns raised from this remarkable tree retain the peculiar habit of blossoming and fruiting at an untimely season, often to the amazement of the credulous rustics, who regard them with superstitious awe.

Both Greeks and Romans honored the hawthorn, having dedicated it to " Flora," whose festival began on May.day. And in many parts of rural England "Merry May-day " is still annually celebrated with innocent amusements, such as dancing round the Maypole, decked with garlands of hawthorn blossoms. And I pleasantly remember having seen a pretty little maiden, the village beauty, crowned with May or hawthorn blossoms, while her lovely young maids of honor sang the happy refrain - "With pleasures abounding, The May-pole surrounding, We crown her the Queen of May-day; etc."

1 would like to continue the subject, but as this is my second attempt to interest the gentle reader in behalf of the hawthorn, I must reluctantly leave much unsaid. I would fain add to the theme; but if my desultory remarks may only persuade the good tree-loving people to plant them about their homes, I shall have accomplished my purpose.

From a Germantown nursery catalogue before me, I see an excellent selection may be be made of hawthorns, suitable for beautifying the home surroundings.