76 THE HAWTHORN. 



of men, that work was begun in him, which God 

 never commences to leave unfinished ; though 

 sometimes drawing a veil, and from its obscurity 

 breathing into our souls the memorable word, 

 " Only believe and thou shalt see the glory of 

 God." 



I could murmur that the hawthorn blossom has 

 this year unfolded prematurely beneath the unwon- 

 ted softness of the season ; but ever welcome be 

 the endeared type ! shall we quarrel with the ra- 

 pidity of God's mercies, and lament the untimely 

 perfecting of a glorified spirit ? If the flowers be 

 withered, the fruit will tell that they have verily 

 bloomed, and left an endearing record of their 

 existence ; but some lingering blossom I shall find 

 to speak of what needs no memento. It was once 

 my lot to pass a spring in a distant country, so 

 bleak and barren that, throughout the whole terri- 

 tory, only one attempt at cultivating the hawthorn 

 had succeeded, and that consisted of a few yards 

 of hedging close to my abode. How sweet was 

 the smile with which its white flowers seemed to 

 look out upon the poor stranger, speaking not merely 

 of home, but of all that had made home pleasant 

 to my happy childhood ! The colonists prized 

 their hawthorn hedge, and pointed it out with pride, 

 to their curious children, descanting on the beauties 

 of English landscape ; but who among them could 

 love it as I did ? 



