M A Y. 1 05 



addition to a tolerable remuneration for the 

 labour of his hands, enjoy a clean cottage and 

 a garden amidst the common but precious offer- 

 ings of nature; the grateful shade of trees and 

 the flow of waters, a pure atmosphere and a 

 riant sky, can scarcely be called poor. 



If Burns had been asked what was the 

 greatest luxury of May, I suppose he would 

 have quoted from his " Cotter's Saturday 

 Night." 



If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare, 

 One cordial in this melancholy vale, 

 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair 

 In other's arms breathe out the tender tale 

 Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale. 



At which Gilpin would quote, from his " Fo- 

 rest Scenery," a passage proving the poets to 

 be very foolish for their admiration of so insig- 

 nificant and inelegant a bush. We however, 

 shall take part with Burns, only we would con- 

 jure a nightingale into his hawthorn, and the 

 hawthorn into a forest, for of all May delights, 

 listening to the nightingale is the greatest, and 

 when heard at still midnight, the moon and 

 stars above you, filling with lustre the clear 

 blue sky; tie trees lifting up their young and 

 varied foliage to the silvery light; the deer qui- 

 etly resting in their thickest shadows, and the 

 night-breeze, ever and anon, wafting through 



