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duction; but our climate suits it so well, that already it 
may be considered as completely naturalized. 
The poplar tribe shares, in common with many other 
trees, the distinction of a classical origin. The ancient 
poets averred that the weeping sisters of “ the temera¬ 
rious Phaeton ” were transformed into poplars. Virgil, 
however, gives this honour to the alder. It was held 
sacred to Hercules; “ and when any ceremonies were 
instituted in honour of that god, its tender branches and 
leaves were twined round the heads of his votaries.” 
But we must not wander too long from our main 
subject, the aspen or trembling poplar, which is not only 
indigenous in our island, but a native of Europe from 
Sweden to Italy. It is a tree of quick growth, readily 
springing up in any soil or situation, and sometimes 
attaining the height of ninety feet. It will not, however, 
bear lopping, like the black poplar; “ thrusting down 
a more searching foot, and taking it ill to have his 
head cut off,” as Evelyn quaintly expresses it. From 
the tremulousness of its leaves it has derived its name, 
and has also become a “ by-word and a proverb.” 
Amongst the wild glens of the Highlands, fit nurseries 
for superstitious fancies and traditionary legends, it is 
a current notion that the cross was made of this tree, 
and that therefore its leaves can never rest. To the 
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