CHAP. XLII. ROSA‘CEE., CRATE'GUS. 837 
the common hawthorn, It is also raised as a stock on which to graft other 
species of Cratee‘gus; and the scarlet-flowered and double-blossomed varieties 
are eminently popular as ornamental flowering low trees. 
Properties and Uses. The wood of the hawthorn is very hard, and difficult 
to work : sts colour is white, but with a yellowish tinge ; its grain is fine, and 
it takes a beautiful polish; but it is not much used in the arts, because it is 
seldom found of sufficient size, and is, besides, apt to warp. It weighs, when 
green, 68 lb. 12 oz. per cubic foot ; and, when dry, 57 lb. 50z. It contracts, 
by drying, one eighth of its bulk. It is employed for the handles of hammers, 
the teeth of mill-wheels, for flails and mallets, and, when heated at the fire, 
for canes and walking-sticks. The branches are used, in the country, for 
heating ovens; a purpose for which they are very proper, as they give out 
much heat, and possess the property of burning as readily when green, as in 
their dry state. They are not less useful in the formation of dead hedges, for 
the protection of seeds, or of newly planted live hedges, or of single trees ; 
and they will last a considerable time without decaying; especially when they 
have been cut in autumn. The leaves are eaten by cattle, which, neverthe- 
less, pay some regard to the spines by which they are defended. The fruit is 
astringent, and has been recommended in cases of dysentery ; and sometimes 
employed with success in affections of the kidneys and bladder. In many of 
the departments of France, a fermented liquor is made from it, and mixed 
with cider and perry to augment its strength. M. Bosc says that, on this 
account alone, the hawthorn ought to be more cultivated in the north of 
France, since the drink formed from it might supply the place of beer, for 
which so much grain is required. The drink is, however, very intoxicating. 
(Dict. des Eaux et des Foréts.) In England, the leaves, when young, were used 
formerly in salads, and have been frequently employed, with those of the sloe, 
to adulterate tea. The hawthorn, like most other indigenous trees, was 
criticised by Gilpin, with reference to its claims to picturesque beauty. To 
this kind of beauty he allows it to have very slight pretensions ; and his rea- 
sons in this, as in every other similar case, are elegantly expressed, and full of 
instruction to the landscape-gardener. “ Its shape,” he says, “ is bad: it 
does not taper and point like the holly, but is rather a matted, round, heavy 
bush. Its fragrance, indeed, is great; but its bloom, which is the source of 
that fragrance, is spread over it in too much profusion: it becomes a mere 
white sheet, a bright spot, which is seldom found in harmony with the 
objects around it. In autumn, the hawthorn makes its best appearance. The 
glowing berries produce a rich tint, which often adds great beauty to the cor- 
ner of a wood, or the side of some crowded clump.” On this passage, Sir 
Thomas Dick Lauder observes, “ We think Mr. Gilpin is peculiarly hard on 
the hawthorn. Even ina picturesque point of view, which is the point of 
view in which he always looks at nature, the hawthorn is not only an in- 
teresting object by itself, but produces a most interesting combination, or con- 
trast, as things may be, when grouped with other trees. We have seen it 
hanging over rocks, with deep shadows under its foliage; or shooting from 
their sides in the most fantastic forms, as if to gaze at its image in the deep 
pool below. We have seen it contrasting its tender green, and its delicate 
leaves, with the brighter and deeper masses of the holly and the alder. We 
have seen it growing under the shelter, though not under the shade, of some 
stately oak ; embodying the idea of beauty protected by strength. Our eyes 
have often caught the motion of the busy mill-wheel, over which its blossoms 
were clustering. We have seen it growing grandly on the green of the village 
school, the great object of general attraction to the young urchins, who played 
in idle groups about its roots; and, perhaps, the only thing remaining to be 
recognised when the schoolboy returns as the man. We have seen its aged 
boughs overshadowing one half of some peaceful woodland cottage; its 
foliage half concealing the window, whence the sounds of happy content 
and cheerful mirth came forth. We know that lively season,— 
3K 4 
