THE WILD CHERRY. PRUNUS CERASUS. "See, Nature hastes her earliest wreaths to bring "WHAT are those living hills of snow, or of some substance purer in its brightness even than any snow that falls, and fades in one night, on the mountain-top? Trees are they, fruit trees-the wild cherry: and can that be a load of blossoms? Fairer never grew before poet's eye of old in the fabled Hesperides. See, how what we call snow brightens into pink, yet still the whole glory is white!" What woodland wanderer will say this description, glowing as it is, is overcharged? He who has once seen this beautiful tree, covered with pearly blossoms, relieving with its lighter graces the massy foliage of the forest, will be rather tempted to think that no description can * The full-grown blossoms are perfectly white, but the buds have a faint tinge of pink; the calyx and stem also exhibit stronger shades of the same colour, so that at a distance the appearance of the trees justifies the above description. do it justice. So truly does it breathe of spring, that if he be in a mood to "find tongues in trees," it reminds him more emphatically, perhaps, than any of its sylvan companions, that "the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth, the time of the singing birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land." Nor is it only when thus blended with heavier trees that its value is chiefly felt; it may, perhaps, even more confidently challenge our admiration when it is seen, as it frequently is, softening the rugged features of the north, decorating some rocky precipice or mountain torrent. It is, moreover, a beautiful addition to the plantation and pleasure ground, where it is very commonly introduced, and always with good effect. Our native cherries, of which there are but two species, Prunus cerasus, and Prunus padus, belong to a very comprehensive genus, consisting for the most part of cultivated species, which, besides adorning our orchards with their blossoms, yield also delicious fruit for our table. Apricots, and the various kinds of plums, are comprised in this class, as well as the wild and garden cherry. The latter was first brought to Rome from Pontus by Lucullus, after the Mithridatic war: a cherry-tree, laden with fruit, was borne in procession at his triumph; and, according to Sir William Temple, within the space of a hundred years, it travelled westward with the Roman conquests, till at last it gained a footing in Britain. Some writers, however, affirm that it did not make its appearance amongst us till the reign of Henry the Eighth, giving the honour of its introduction to Richard Haines, fruiterer to that monarch; but the remains of aged cherry-trees, still visible in some of the old abbey gardens, make its earlier cultivation probable. If Pliny is to be trusted, we shall find his account verifies the first-mentioned date; for he says positively, " In less than one hundred and twenty years after the conquest of Pontus, other lands had cherries, even as far as Britain, beyond the ocean." Towards the middle of the sixteenth century, cherries were so common as to be hawked about in the metropolis: it was customary to indicate the commencement of the season by carrying a bough laden with this tempting fruit through the streets and alleys. The author, whose essay on gardening we have just quoted, mentions cherries and apples, as, "of all other fruits, the most innocent food:" some may be tempted to question this high authority, and to doubt whether he really has made the best possible selection. |