I AM the rose of Sharon, and the lily of the valleys. As the lily among thorns, so is my love among the daughters. As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, and his fruit was sweet to my taste." Thus, in the "Song of Songs, which is Solomon's," the rose of Sharon associates with luxurious vegetation, a happy frame of mind, an expectation satisfied, and is the symbol of a blissful inspiration. Sharon is all that country west of Jordan that lies between the mountains of Central Palestine and the Mediterranean--a country comprising the pastures whereon David's cattle grazed--a country, too, of woods and waters, which might with propriety have been named Goshen, the Flowery Land. The rose of Sharon, therefore, must be a flower renowned for beauty, or fragrance, or some special quality that would command the attention of a writer of holy song when his imagination sought for emblems wherewith to strew the banqueting house that was adorned with the banner of love. It is impossible for any one to determine what particular flower the text refers to. There are at least half a dozen species of wild roses in Palestine, and the cabbage the damask roses are, and for any length of time past have been, cultivated there. But the difficulty is for the lexicographers and the travellers first, and the botanists afterwards. The mallow produces gorgeous masses of colour in the plains of Sharon, and may be the "rose" that Solomon has so charmingly dignified. But the lily and the narcissus also abound there; and the word rendered "rose" in the English version is of such general application that it might in some cases be translated half a dozen different ways without any perversion of the spiritual or poetical purport of the text. It association with the "lily of the valleys" suggests something different to either the rose or the hypericum, such as some shade-loving bulbous plant. Mr. George Grove indicates his belief that the rose of Sharon was the "tall, graceful, and striking squill."

It was the opinion of Linnaeus, in which he was supported by observant travellers, that a species of cistus is the real rose of Sharon. Our pretty Helianthemum vulgare, which produces most elegant yellow flowers, and thus forms rich carpets of gold on ledges of rock in limestone districts-notably in Bonsal Dale, Derbyshire--is the best representative, probably, we have of this view of the case. The particular plant, however, which Linnaeus elected to the honour is Cistus roseus, a plant more abundant in the eastern mountainous districts of Sharon than are any of the true roses, or than our rock-rose is on the limestone ranges of the midland and northern counties.

Thus we have got far away from the plant figured, although in gardens it is known as the "Rose of Sharon" and as "Aaron's Beard." Its claims to be called by the first of these two names are not entirely disposed of by the considerations already entertained. It is a woodland plant, and thrives under the shade of trees. It is not wanting in the flora of the Holy Land, and in Syria occur several species of hypericum.

As a garden plant, Hypericum calycinum is especially serviceable to clothe banks and borders that are shaded by trees, as it spreads over the ground somewhat rapidly, and forms a rich surfacing of glossy leaves of a full green colour, which, in the later days of summer, are overspread by large, handsome, yellow flowers, with very many beard-like stamens. This plant will thrive in any good soil, and it is scarcely less healthy in the smoky town than in the country garden.

The common St. John's wort was a Druidical plant, and is still looked upon with superstitious reverence in many rural districts, as peculiarly fitted for a spell or charm. Many curious ceremonies are still performed in villages on Midsummer Eve and the succeeding morning, distinguished as the day dedicated to St. John. These performances have a peculiar interest to young maidens and bachelors, and like those of Halloween, in Scotland, are believed by the superstitious observers to lift the veil of futurity for the coming year, and enable the inquirers to prognosticate their lot for married or single life. These practices still prevail in many parts of the Continent. In Lower Saxony the young girls gather sprigs of St. John's wort on the eve of St. John, and secretly suspend them on the walls of their chambers, with certain mysterious ceremonies. The state of the plant on the following morning indicates their future fate. If fresh and undrooping, it foretells a prosperous marriage; if fading and dying, the reverse. The plant is influenced by the condition in which it is placed, and those who have damp walls are the more likely to have prosperous marriages than those whose walls are as dry as they should be. There is wisdom in this; the sooner the former are married and comfortably housed, the safer are they from attacks of rheumatism. There is a pretty German legend of this superstition, the first six lines of which indicate its tone:--

"The young maid stole through the cottage door,

And blushed as she sought the plant of power.

`Thou silver glow-worm, oh, lend me thy light;

I must gather the mystic St. John's wort to-night:

The wonderful herb whose leaf will decide