ment " by the magisterial pedagogue," as Threlkeld quaintly observes, " to drive the colt out of the man.” But this office appears so uncongenial with its elegant and gentle aspect, that we would gladly forget it. The birch is a beautiful appendage to mountainous and rocky scenery, where it may often be observed springing out of some tiny fissure, retaining its footing by so slight a hold that it seems hanging in air. It is truly a Scottish tree; and as such, with great propriety, Sir W. Scott gives it a place in his graphic description of Highland scenery: : "With boughs that quaked at every breath, How frequently too is it introduced into the poetry of Burns, and under what alluring denominations," the gay green birk,” “the fragrant birk !” "Down by the burn, where scented birks Wi' dew are hanging clear." "The birks of Aberfeldy," indeed, are almost as duly immortalised by his little sprightly song bearing that title, as even the mountain-daisy" itself by the pathetic stanzas he has addressed to it. It has been remarked, " that "the very smell of the first springing leaves of this tree wonderfully recruits and exhilarates the spirits." Whether this effect be really produced by physical causes, or merely by the power of association, others must decide; perhaps both lend their aid in bringing about so pleasant a result. O! come to the meadows, the meadows are gay, And sorrow and sadness Have fled with dark winter,-away then, away ! O! come to the glen, where the bright silver rill, Now calm as a mirror For Fay or for Dryad, it rests and is still. O! come to the woodlands, 'tis joy to behold The new-waken'd buds in our pathway unfold; For spring has come forth, and the bland southern breeze Is telling the tale to the shrubs and the trees, Which, anxious to show her The duty they owe her, Have deck'd themselves gaily in emʼrald and gold. But though beautiful each, sure the fairest of all Is yon birch, that is waving so graceful and tall : How tender yet bright is the tint that is flung O'er its delicate spray, which so lightly is hung That like breeze of the mountain, Or gush of the fountain, It owns not of rest or of slumber the thrall. Yet 't is said that in climes o'er the far northern sea, The theme of her numbers Is the gem of the forest, the bonnie birch-tree. THE COMMON ALDER. ALNUS GLUTINOSA. "From out the cavern'd rock, In living rills, a gushing fountain broke; The bushing alders formed a shady scene." THE alder loves to make its home "beside all waters;" the clear lake, the sedgy pool, the majestic river," the crisped brook," all are alike to it. Wherever there is water, there, almost to a certainty, shall we find this tree. By sylvan connoisseurs the alder is considered the most picturesque of the aquatic tribe, except the weeping willow. But it is not a mere beautifier of that description of scenery to which it chiefly confines itself; it forms a strong natural embankment against the encroachments of the current; and it is also said, in common with most other trees that love the stream, to possess properties for correcting the unhealthy air peculiar to such situations, in a much greater degree than those which grow in places of less humidity. |