030 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 PROF. CHARLES A. KOFOID AND 
 MRS. PRUDENCE W. KOFOID 
 
- 
 . ; 
 
 '-. - f^-sTY^r 
 
BOTANICAL RAMBLES, 
 
 KEY. C. A. JOHNS, B.A., F.L.S., 
 
 HEAD MASTEB OP THE HEL3TON GRAMMAR, SCHOOL, CORNWALL. 
 
 PUBLISHED TJNDEB THE DIRECTION OF 
 
 APPOINTED BY THE SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING 
 CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 FEINTED FOR 
 
 THE SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE 
 
 SOLD AT THE DEPOSITORY, 
 
 GREAT QUEEN STREET, LINCOLN'S INN FIELDS J 
 AND BY ALL BOOKSELLERS. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 Printed by S. and J. BBNTLEY, WILSON, and PLET, 
 Bangor House, Shoe Lane. 
 
BOTANICAL RAMBLES. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE MEADOW. 
 
 " What though I trace each herb and flower 
 
 That sips the morning dew ; 
 
 Did I not own Jehovah's power, 
 
 How vain were all I knew !" 
 
 You asked me a few days ago, of what use 
 were all the dried plants which I was so care- 
 fully fastening to paper ; and you will recollect, 
 perhaps, that I then evaded the question, suffer- 
 ing you for the time to think that I was commit- 
 ting great waste in spoiling so much good paper. 
 When I told you, on another occasion, that, 
 amongst my numerous collection of stones, stained 
 with spots of yellow, and grey, and black, there 
 were none which contained any useful mineral, 
 you seemed yet more surprised. " Had they 
 been specimens of ore," you said, " you could 
 conceive it possible that they might be worth 
 collecting and examining;" and I saw at the 
 same time (although you expressed no opinion 
 on the subject) that you thought me a sad trifler, 
 devoting, to a very unprofitable subject, time 
 which might advantageously be employed in read- 
 
x5 THE MEADOW. 
 
 ing some instructive or even merely entertaining 
 book. 
 
 When, on another occasion, I returned from 
 my ramble on the sea-shore, and, instead of rest- 
 ing after my fatiguing walk, set busily to work 
 with my dishes of water, blotting-paper, and 
 calico, floating out the specimens of sea-weed 
 which I had collected, you were yet more puz- 
 zled. I did not attempt, however, to satisfy your 
 curiosity, but promised that you should accom- 
 pany me in my next excursion into the country, 
 when you would probably discover, that I had 
 some motive for my incomprehensible conduct 
 beyond the simple desire of making a collection 
 of all the plants that I met with, and arranging 
 them in packages. That promise I am now about 
 to redeem, premising, that I do not meditate 
 making you a botanist during the few rambles 
 which I shall have an opportunity of taking with 
 you; but that my object will be, to bring before 
 your notice some of the many interesting facts 
 which Botany, if ever you should study that science, 
 will enable you to discover for yourself. 
 
 If you should be tempted to become a natu- 
 ralist, you will have to study books containing a 
 considerable number of " hard names," which you 
 have never before seen, of which it will cost you 
 some trouble to find the meaning, and which you 
 will at first have some difficulty in recollecting. I 
 do not say this to discourage you, but to caution 
 you against falling into an error, now unfortu- 
 nately very common, that it is possible to acquire 
 a fair knowledge of any science without industry 
 and pains. It is true enough, that many of the 
 most important discoveries have been made almost 
 
THE MEADOW. 3 
 
 accidentally ; that trifling occurrences have led to 
 the most important events ; but you will find it a 
 difficult task to name to me one invention in the 
 arts, or one discovery in the sciences, which has not 
 been arrived at by pains-taking and thoughtful 
 men, men who were well acquainted with the 
 value of all that had been done before in their 
 respective subjects of investigation, and who had 
 learnt, by dint of hard study and intense appli- 
 cation, to turn accident to account. The study of 
 Botany, should you ever be induced to take it up, 
 will be an amusement for your leisure hours ; but, 
 unless you set out fully prepared to encounter 
 serious difficulties, and resolved to overcome them, 
 it will be a wearisome amusement, and defeat its 
 own ends. It may happen, that your only grati- 
 fication during the earlier stages of your progress 
 will be derived from looking back upon the rug- 
 ged path which you have traversed, when the 
 reflection that you have mastered difficulties which 
 at the outset appeared almost insurmountable, will 
 give you encouragement to proceed against those 
 which yet seem to be obstacles in your way. If, 
 in the course of our rambles, I present you with 
 some of the flowers and fruits of botanical research, 
 you must not forget that they were not attained 
 until many difficulties had been surmounted ; and, 
 if you would wish to gather any such for yourself, 
 you can only reach them by undergoing a similar 
 process. 
 
 Our first excursion shall be through a Meadow, 
 the produce of which is reserved for making hay. 
 Here you will discover at first, perhaps, nothing 
 very well deserving your notice, for, with the ex- 
 ception of Ox-eye Daisies, and a sprinkling of Red 
 
4 THE MEADOW. 
 
 Poppies, there is nothing to be seen but grass. By 
 the term grass, farmers mean all plants which serve 
 as pasture to cattle, or may be converted into hay, 
 or, more accurately, all plants with comparatively 
 small leaves growing in pasture land. Botanists, 
 however, comprehend under the term those plants 
 only which bear long and narrow leaves, jointed 
 stems, and seeds more or less resembling grains of 
 barley or wheat. 
 
 Of all vegetable productions the various kinds 
 of grass are, in temperate climates, at once the most 
 generally diffused, and the most important. The 
 different kinds of grass to which the common name 
 of corn is given furnish man and several domestic 
 animals with their principal food; other sorts, 
 which abound in our pasture-lands, afford, in their 
 green state during the spring and summer months, 
 and in the form of hay during winter, an inexhaus- 
 tible supply of sustenance to cattle ; while the 
 stems or straw of the larger kinds, namely, wheat, 
 barley, and oats, are applied to a number of useful 
 purposes, which I need not mention. 
 
 In order, therefore, that there may not be want- 
 ing a sufficient supply of so valuable a production, 
 the Providence of God has so constituted their 
 nature that they are less liable than any plants with 
 which we are acquainted to become extinct, and 
 less affected by any excess of heat or cold, drought 
 or moisture. Their leaves are, as I have said, long 
 and narrow, and of the same width from the base 
 upwards to nearly the extreme point. Hence it 
 happens, that whenever rain or dew settles on 
 them, it does not drop off, but is conducted as 
 through a channel to the roots. The leaves too, 
 when they have executed their office of supplying 
 
THE MEADOW. 5 
 
 the plant with moisture, perform another equally 
 useful by sheltering the immediate neighbourhood 
 of the root from the rays of the sun; and the 
 plants themselves, by growing not singly but in 
 tufts, afford protection to each other. Some spe- 
 cies are perennial, that is, they continue to grow 
 for several years. One of these,* which is very 
 common in meadow pastures, is furnished with 
 roots composed of fine, closely-matted fibres, and 
 in ordinary seasons derives from the soil by the 
 'help of these as much nourishment as it needs. 
 But if by any chance it grow in a situation where, 
 from the dryness of the season, the porous nature 
 of the soil, or other cause, such roots would be of 
 little use in a very dry season, the fibres disappear, 
 and the root acquires a number of juicy balls, strung 
 together like beads, and these supply the leaves 
 and stem with nourishment till the return of rainy 
 weather. Other perennial grasses grow naturally in 
 a soil composed of sand, with a very little mixture 
 of mould. Here fibrous roots would be of -little ser- 
 vice, for the sand from which they spring becomes 
 perfectly dry after a few days of hot weather, and 
 roots of this description could not reach sufficiently 
 deep to procure a supply of nourishment. Besides 
 this, sand-hills in the neighbourhood of the sea, 
 being necessarily much exposed to the wind, are 
 liable to constant changes. Either the sand is 
 blown away from them, in which case all plants 
 not extending beyond a certain depth would be 
 carried off with it, or the hillock, by the addition 
 of fresh sand, is constantly increasing in size ; and 
 in this case, both leaves and stems would soon be 
 
 * Phleum pratense. 
 
6 THE MEADOW. 
 
 buried together. The grasses, therefore, which 
 grow in such situations, have long wiry leaves which 
 spring from the root far below the surface of the 
 ground, and are little injured, however hard the 
 wind is ; they are also furnished with very tough 
 stems, spreading horizontally, not like the runners 
 of the garden strawberry on the surface, but at a 
 depth of many feet in the sand. From the joints 
 of these ascend tufts of such leaves as I have de- 
 scribed above, and roots are connected with each 
 tuft. I have sometimes seen these underground 
 stems in places where they have grown through the 
 sides of sandhills, running along the ground to the 
 distance of twenty or thirty feet. The greater 
 part of the coast of Holland, being composed of 
 dykes, upon the security of which the existence of 
 the country depends, the Dutch have turned to 
 advantage the peculiar growth of these grasses, 
 and have planted them wherever the soil is adapted 
 for their growth, that is, wherever danger is most 
 to be apprehended. Several parts of the shores 
 of England are protected from the encroachments 
 of the sea by the same means. 
 
 Some other kinds of perennial grass send out 
 new roots from any of the lower joints of the stem 
 which happen to touch the ground. By this con- 
 trivance, when one portion of the plant is injured 
 or destroyed, the other continues to thrive on its 
 own resources. 
 
 Grasses which are annual in their duration, 
 depend more for their preservation upon their 
 seeds than upon their roots. These, by an equally 
 wise provision, are scantily provided with roots and 
 leaves, while their flower-stalks are both abundant 
 and productive. In most kinds of grass too, the 
 
THE MEADOW. 7 
 
 seeds, when ripe, are easily detached from the stem, 
 so that when the haymaker tosses about his newly- 
 mown crops for the sake of drying them, he at the 
 same time scatters his field with abundant store of 
 seed for the next season. 
 
 I have only to add one or two interesting facts 
 respecting grass, and I shall have done with this 
 subject for the present. If you go into a field 
 which, instead of being reserved for hay, affords 
 pasturage for cattle, you will find that the leaves 
 are cropped almost close down to the ground, and 
 that the young shoots are more numerous and 
 more thickly matted together than they were in 
 the hay-field. Now, you would scarcely suppose 
 that the spreading of the roots is at all promoted 
 by the removal of the young shoots and leaves, 
 but such is the case, for grasses, as well as many 
 other plants, have a strong tendency to send out 
 numerous small branches, if the leading stem be 
 removed. Thus, it appears, that animals when 
 grazing are promoting the growth of their food 
 instead of retarding it. They diminish the actual 
 size of the plant indeed for to-day, but so judi- 
 ciously that to-morrow finds it more productive 
 than ever. Instinct, in fact, teaches them to treat 
 grass in the same way that man does trees when 
 he cuts a willow or an ash-tree down close to the 
 ground, in order that he may supply himself with 
 rods or poles. But here is another circumstance 
 still more wonderful. In all pasture lands, how- 
 ever closely the grass be nibbled, or even if more 
 animals are sent into them than the space allotted 
 will supply with adequate nourishment, you will 
 always discover scattered here and there a few 
 tall stems bearing spikes of seeds at their tops. 
 
8 
 
 THE MEADOW. 
 
 Now how is this to be accounted for ? " O," 
 you will say, " cows and sheep prefer the tender 
 leaves to the hard stems, and therefore leave the 
 latter." Just so : but why do they prefer the one, 
 and leave the other ? The seed-stems were not 
 passed by accidentally, you allow; they must, 
 therefore, have been suffered to remain by de- 
 
 POLLARD-ASH. 
 
 sign either of the animals or of the all-wise God, 
 who gave to each its peculiar instinct ; and if so, 
 what is the object of that design ? I will leave 
 you to answer this question for yourself, only 
 helping you to solve it by asking another, viz., 
 From what would the annual grasses spring next 
 
THE MEADOW. 
 
 year if their seeds, as well as their leaves, were 
 eaten by cattle ? 
 
 Before we quit the Meadow, I must call your 
 attention to a little flower, which it will be well 
 worth your while to gather and examine very 
 closely. The Daisy,* or, as I suppose, it was ori- 
 ginally written, the day's eye, received its name 
 
 THE DAISY. 
 
 from its being a bright, cheerful, light-loving 
 flower, growing in places where it might bask 
 all day long in the rays of the sun. If you look 
 at this attentively you will discover that it is not 
 
 * Bellis perennis. 
 
10 THE MEADOW. 
 
 in reality one single flower, but an assemblage of 
 perhaps as many as a hundred very small and ele- 
 gantly-shaped yellow cups, surrounded by a border 
 of white spreading flower-leaves or petals. Now 
 every one of these florets, as they are called, both 
 yellow and white, is a distinct flower of itself, not 
 certainly very large, or growing upon a long stem, 
 like most other flowers, but still a distinct flower. 
 But why, you will ask, are they so different in 
 shape ? What reason can there be why those in 
 the centre should be like cups, while those at the 
 border are flat like other flowers. 
 
 I will endeavour to furnish you with a reason. 
 The yellow cups are shaped like bells, and quite 
 open, so that, without some means to prevent such 
 an occurrence, every shower of rain would fill them 
 with water. Now, most bell-shaped flowers, such 
 as the Wild Hyacinth and the different kinds of 
 Campanula, hang down their heads, and, there- 
 fore, let it rain ever so hard, are kept as dry as if 
 they were sheltered by a thatched roof; but the 
 cups of the Daisy are turned upwards, and, as they 
 cannot shelter themselves, require to be protected 
 by some other means, and here their associates, 
 which form the fringe of white florets, lend their 
 aid. These are so constituted, that when either 
 rain or dew is about to fall they slowly rise from 
 their horizontal position and close over the yellow 
 flowers, forming for them a covering like a tent. 
 Should the weather be still, they remain in their 
 erect position, and whatever wet falls runs down 
 on the outside of the white petals ; but if it blows 
 hard, they yield to the wind and present the base 
 of the flower to the driving rain. But in either 
 case the yellow flowers are equally protected from 
 
THE MEADOW. 
 
 11 
 
 THE WILD HYACINTH. 
 
 the wet. If you search a meadow on a rainy day, 
 or in the evening after sunset, you will not find 
 
12 THE MEADOW. 
 
 a daisy open. Here and there, perhaps, you will 
 find one which appears to depart from this rule, 
 but on examination you will find that all the cen- 
 tral flowers are either dead or withering, and, con- 
 sequently, stand in no need of protection. 
 
 Not worlds on worlds in phalanx deep 
 
 Need we to prove a God is here ; 
 The daisy fresh from nature's sleep,* 
 
 Tells of His hand in lines as clear ; 
 For who but He who arch'd the skies, 
 
 And poured the day-spring's living flood 
 Wondrous alike in all he tries 
 
 Could raise the daisy's purple bud ; 
 Mould its green cup, its wiry stem, 
 
 Its fringed border nicely spin, 
 And cut the gold-embossed gem 
 
 That, set in silver, gleams within ? 
 And fling it unrestrain'd and free, 
 
 O'er hill, and dale, and desert sod, 
 That man, where'er he walks, may see 
 
 In every step the stamp of God. 
 
 Dr. MASON GOOD. 
 
 There are a great many other flowers which, 
 like the Daisy, are made up of a number of smaller 
 florets ; of these, some on the approach of rain 
 close in the same way that the Daisy does, others 
 hang down their heads, or turn away from the 
 rain. The Goat's-beard always shuts its flowers 
 about twelve o'clock. The Sun-flower does not 
 close either by day or night, but keeps its face 
 always turned towards the shining sun. 
 
 By what strange mechanism these extraordinary 
 effects are produced, no one has yet discovered. 
 That the plant has not the power of choosing for 
 
 * This peculiarity in some plants of closing their flowers or 
 leaves has been called " the sleep of plants." 
 
THE MEADOW. 
 
 13 
 
 itself we know very well, for it can no more refuse 
 to obey certain laws which are prescribed for it 
 than it can refuse to grow when planted and fos- 
 tered by the hand of Providence. May not these 
 things be kept secret from us that we may " see 
 and know, and consider, and understand, together, 
 that the hand of the Lord hath done this, and the 
 Holy One of Israel hath created it ? " 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE CORN-FIELD. 
 
 Rent is the fleecy mantle of the sky ; 
 The clouds fly different : and the sudden sun 
 By fits effulgent gilds th' illumined field, 
 And black by fits the shadows sweep along 
 A gaily-checkered heart-expanding view : 
 Far as the circling eye can shoot around, 
 Unbounded tossing in a flood of corn. 
 
 THOMPSON. 
 
 PLANTS which produce the various kinds of 
 grain used as food by men and cattle are included 
 under the general name of Corn. They are also 
 sometimes called Cereal grasses, from Ceres, an 
 imaginary being, worshipped in ancient times by 
 some heathen nations as the goddess who watched 
 over corn-fields. That the providence of the one 
 true God keeps a close watch over all His works, 
 we know from the teaching of the Sacred Volume ; 
 and the experience of every day's life repeats the 
 same lesson in one form or another. We cannot 
 in every case discover what ends our Heavenly 
 Father has in view in creating, protecting, and 
 preserving a vast number of vegetables, and even 
 animals, which to us seem unimportant, or by 
 what means those ends are effected ; yet, if we 
 reflect on the particulars which have come under 
 our notice with respect to those which are emi- 
 nently useful to man, and which have on that 
 account been thought worthy of investigation, we 
 shall discern so much that is fraught with instruc- 
 
THE CORN-FIELD. 15 
 
 tion that we cannot but conclude that nothing 
 has been made in vain, every created thing 
 being designed to fulfil some wise and bene- 
 ficent purpose. People very frequently ask, what 
 is the use of botany ? When they speak thus they 
 mean to say, " What good can accrue to us from 
 the study ? " Show them that they may learn 
 from it some new and useful property of a certain 
 herb, and they are content to listen ; tell them 
 that they may by examining a leaf catch a glimpse 
 of the creative and protecting wisdom of God, and 
 they are content to leave the study to others, who, 
 they say, are more curious about such things than 
 themselves. Thoughtless selfishness is at the bot- 
 tom of this. They are willing to learn all that 
 science can teach them, if they can thereby heap 
 up another bushel in their barns, but that which 
 merely adds to the glory of God, they do not think 
 it worth their while to inquire into. It was for 
 an equally selfish reason that the heathens wor- 
 shipped, with peculiar solemnities, the Goddess of 
 Corn, and thought but little of the imaginary 
 deities who presided over those natural objects 
 which seemed to them to be of little use. If 
 their crops were to fail they knew that they would 
 be exposed to great inconvenience, and they en- 
 deavoured to propitiate by offerings her whom 
 they supposed to watch over their corn-fields ; but 
 it mattered not whatever else went wrong ; they 
 could not see what end the inferior plants and 
 animals answered in the universe, and therefore 
 took no interest in them. 
 
 We, however, who have fallen upon better 
 times, should be actuated by no such narrow 
 motives. Our blessed Saviour has taught us that 
 
16 THE CORN-FIELD. 
 
 " not a sparrow falls to the ground without our 
 heavenly Father." From this we should learn, 
 that what appears to us the meanest and most 
 insignificant part of the creation, is worthy of 
 being looked into, because it is His work; and 
 when we admire His consummate wisdom and 
 goodness in causing the earth to bring forth grass 
 for the service of man, we should not be influenced 
 wholly or principally by selfish motives, but join to 
 our gratitude for benefits conferred on ourselves 
 an acknowledgment of His universal benevolence. 
 
 The particular kind of corn which is most im- 
 portant in this country is wheat. Of this there 
 are several varieties, differing from each other 
 more or less in appearance, productiveness, or 
 the season at which they ripen, but still retain- 
 ing sufficient resemblance to each other to prove 
 that they have been derived from a common stock. 
 It is not known of what country wheat is a native, 
 that is, where it grows wild; but this fact proves to 
 us that it has been cultivated as long as there have 
 existed any records of agriculture ; and, indeed, it 
 is most probable that if we were to find the ori- 
 ginal of the varieties of wheat now cultivated, it 
 would be unlike them all. God has declared, that 
 in the sweat of his face man shall eat bread ; it is 
 most probable, therefore, that wheat even in its 
 native country, as an article of food, is not nearly 
 so valuable in its wild state as it is when culti- 
 vated, and in those countries in which it is to be 
 considered a foreigner, it quickly degenerates, and 
 becomes comparatively valueless, unless continued 
 labour be bestowed upon its cultivation. 
 
 The best modes of cultivating the various kinds 
 of grain are a subject for the consideration of the 
 
THE CORN-FIELD. 17 
 
 farmer rather than of the botanist ; but both may 
 discover how little the labour of man would avail 
 unless One wiser and mightier than he interfered 
 in particulars, to which human wisdom and power 
 cannot reach. In order that the produce of a 
 country may be in any degree proportionate to 
 the wants of its inhabitants, it is necessary that 
 such produce should be abundant ; that is, if corn 
 be cultivated, that a great quantity should grow 
 in a small space. The plants which produce corn, 
 therefore, should be very close together. But, in 
 order that a large number of stems may grow in 
 a small space, it is further necessary that they 
 should be slender, so as not to take up much 
 room, and they ought also to be strong enough 
 to resist the wind and to sustain the weight of the 
 swelling grain, or the husbandman's labour would 
 be expended in vain. We will examine the beau- 
 tiful contrivances of God's providence, by which 
 all these objects are effected. The ears of corn 
 (we must attend to these first, for to them all the 
 other parts of the plant are subservient) are just 
 so far distant from each other that every one has 
 free access to air, rain, and the light of the sun, 
 without shading its neighbour; they are all of 
 nearly an equal height, consequently none are 
 injured by being overtopped by more robust 
 plants, and none liable to be snapped off by sud- 
 den gusts of wind, from lifting their heads above 
 the rest of the crop. The stems, unlike those of 
 the greater number of herbaceous plants, are not 
 solid throughout, but consist of hollow tubes, 
 strengthened here and there by stout swelling 
 joints, and the lower part of each tube is encased 
 by the base of a leaf. One might very naturally 
 
18 THE CORN-FIELD. 
 
 suppose that a stem of this description would be 
 more liable to be broken off than a solid one 
 which contained an equal quantity of substance; 
 but it has been found, by experiment, that the 
 reverse of this is the case. If a bar of iron, or 
 any other metal, were to be beaten out and 
 formed into a hollow cylinder, it would sustain 
 a much greater weight, or require a far greater 
 power to be exerted in order to break it than if 
 it were suffered to remain in its solid state. In 
 like manner, a stem of one year's growth, when its 
 fibres are arranged in a tubular form, will bear a 
 much greater weight of seed, and withstand the 
 violence of the wind very much better, than the 
 same quantity of substance arranged in any other 
 way. The bones of birds afford a similar example 
 of fitness for the particular part they are called on 
 to perform. Many birds easily remain on wing for 
 a very long time without resting, though exercising 
 a power which enables them to fly at the rate of 
 from thirty to sixty miles an hour. In order that 
 they may do this, the bones of their wings must 
 be very light, or the weight would soon bring 
 them to the ground ; and it is necessary also that 
 they should at the same time be very strong, 
 otherwise the force of the air pressing against 
 their expanded feathers would snap them off. 
 Accordingly, if we examine the bones in the wing 
 of a bird, we shall find that they are composed of 
 a strong substance as tough as horn, but very 
 thin, and not filled with marrow like the bones of 
 quadrupeds, but hollow, and connected with in- 
 ternal organs, by means of which the bird is 
 enabled to fill the bones with air or to empty them 
 at his will, and accordingly as he may be disposed 
 
THE CORN-FIELD. 19 
 
 to rise or sink. Strength and lightness are thus 
 equally ensured. There is no such reason why 
 the stems of corn should be light, but there is 
 very good reason why they should be strong ; and, 
 if we bear in mind that from the smallness-of their 
 seeds and roots they are unable to acquire any 
 great substance in one year, we shall readily see 
 why it is necessary for that small quantity to be 
 arranged in such a way as to make the stem as 
 strong as possible. Besides this, I may observe, 
 that there enters into the composition of the outer 
 part of the stems a portion of flint. You wonder, 
 perhaps, that anything so different in its appear- 
 ance as flint is from straw should be found in the 
 stems of corn, but your wonder will be trans- 
 ferred to another object, when I tell you that it 
 exists in such large quantities in the stems of a 
 certain juicy plant (horse-tail) growing in our 
 marshes, that country people use its dried stems 
 to polish vessels of tin and brass. 
 
 I doubt whether there is a more beautiful sight 
 in the world than that which is presented by a 
 field of wheat or barley in the month of June. 
 There has been heavy rain during the night; a 
 drop is here and there even yet sparkling on some 
 tufts of grass, and the recently-fallen leaves of the 
 poppy are still crimson and fresh ; the wild gera- 
 nium in the hedge-bank has not yet raised its 
 head, though the scarlet pimpernel, almost a bet- 
 ter weather-prophet than the daisy, has opened 
 so widely that I may not fear any more rain to- 
 day; the ground under yonder hawthorn-tree is 
 covered with the white petals which the rain has 
 beaten off. I am rather sorry for this, for I 
 should like to gather a branch, and to bury my 
 
20 THE CORN-FIELD. 
 
 face in its bunches of cool fragrant flowers. Over 
 head, a lark, traced by its song, and only dis- 
 covered by its twinkling, is rejoicing in the love- 
 liness of the day. There is a fresh breeze astir, 
 and long waves are travelling across the field, 
 which seems as if it would no longer remain in 
 sluggish inactivity, but would wish, like the bee 
 and butterfly skimming on its surface, to start 
 into moving life. Every stem is bending and im- 
 mediately recovering its former position. There 
 are no broad leaves to offer resistance to the 
 wind, and so ensure destruction to the plants 
 which bear them ; but the breeze searches for a 
 way everywhere, and everywhere finds it, supping 
 up or scattering the wet, and rendering the refresh- 
 ed grain fit to receive the genial rays of the sun. 
 
 When you study botany for yourself, you will 
 learn why it is essential to the perfect growth of 
 plants that their leaves should be exposed to the 
 wind, and why the flowers should not be encum- 
 bered with excessive moisture ; why it is ordained 
 that the bee should ask for nourishment from the 
 flowers of plants, and not from the leaves ; and 
 why sun, rain, and wind are all necessary to 
 ensure the ripening of so inconsiderable a thing 
 in the creation as a grain of wheat. For the pre- 
 sent, I must content myself with telling you that 
 these things have been thus ordered by Him who 
 has declared that " while the earth remaineth, 
 seed-time and harvest, and cold and heat, and sum- 
 mer and winter, and day and night, shall not cease." 
 
 It has been said already, that the various kinds 
 of grass, including wheat, barley, and other sorts 
 of corn, are eminently useful to man, by supplying 
 either him or the domestic animals with food. 
 
THE CORN-FIELD. 
 
 THE DARNEL. 
 
 There is, however, one exception, and I believe 
 only one. This is the darnel } * a rather large grass 
 
 * Lolium temulentum. Supposed to be the Tare of Scripture. 
 
22 THE CORN-FIELD. 
 
 furnished with broad leaves, a stout stem, and 
 growing as high as wheat, among which it is 
 generally to be found. Instances have been 
 known when the seeds of this plant, which pos- 
 sess peculiarly noxious properties, have acci- 
 dentally been mixed with wheat, and both being 
 nearly of the same size, it is almost impossible 
 to separate one from the other by the ordinary 
 process of sifting ; consequently, whenever this 
 has happened the result has been very serious. 
 Persons who have partaken of bread made from 
 this pernicious mixture, have suffered effects si- 
 milar to those produced by other active poisons. 
 I have been more especially induced to mention 
 this baneful plant, because it is supposed to be the 
 Tare of Scripture, with the account of which in the 
 parable its character closely agrees. It is evident 
 that the plant there alluded to is possessed of 
 noxious qualities, or it would not have been said 
 that it was sown by an enemy; and it is also very 
 likely that it closely resembled wheat, or there 
 would have been no difficulty in discriminating 
 between the two ; were the two plants very dis- 
 similar, it might have been rooted up while the 
 corn was young, in the same way that cherlock, 
 and some other weeds, are frequently eradicated 
 from our fields during spring, and early summer. 
 It is very probable, then, that our Saviour, who, 
 in order that he might be better understood by his 
 hearers, was accustomed to illustrate his meaning 
 by referring to objects with which they were 
 familiar, had this plant in view when he com- 
 pared the end of the world to the harvest, the 
 children of the kingdom being represented by 
 the good seed, the children of the wicked One by 
 
THE CORN-FIELD. 23 
 
 the tares. What renders this the more prohahle 
 is, that the latter only appeared when the blade of 
 the wheat had sprung up and brought forth fruit. 
 This description exactly agrees with the darnel, 
 the leaves of which are so like the corn among 
 which they grow as not to be distinguished from 
 it until the ear is formed. I was one day walking 
 through a wheat-field in one of the western coun- 
 ties of England, just before harvest, when I ob- 
 served a considerable quantity of darnel growing 
 among the corn, and stopped to gather some. 
 While I was thus occupied the owner of the 
 field came up to me, and asked me what I was 
 gathering; I said that I was merely collecting 
 a few specimens of a peculiar kind of grass, 
 which I showed to him. " Ah!" said he, "that 
 is a very bad sort of weed to grow among corn." 
 I assented, and after mentioning to him w r hat the 
 properties of the plant were, said, that " some 
 people supposed it to be the same with the tare 
 of Scripture." The farmer, however, appeared 
 to know very little about the parable to which 
 I alluded, but went on to say, that he found it 
 a very troublesome weed, " for," added he, " I 
 am obliged to employ a number of women, at 
 harvest time, to pick it out from the wheat, and 
 to tie it up in bundles." No doubt, when thus 
 " tied up in bundles," it is usually burnt ; for 
 every prudent farmer would adopt such mea- 
 sures as he thought best calculated to prevent 
 it from springing again from seed, which it would 
 most likely do if the straw coming from it were 
 converted into litter; for in this case, although 
 the stems should rot, yet the seeds would be car- 
 ried out into his fields among manure, and he 
 
24 THE COR:N-FIELD. 
 
 would thus perpetuate the evil which he had 
 taken pains to extirpate. This incident, trifling 
 as it was, interested me very much. If it had 
 taken place in Palestine it would not have been 
 so much to be wondered at, for there the face of 
 nature is but little altered from what it was at 
 the time when our Saviour appeared on earth. 
 There the same plants and animals are still to 
 be found, which are mentioned in the Sacred 
 Writings, and there man himself, prone as he is 
 in other parts of the world to change his habits 
 according to the whim of the day, retains the 
 customs, and even the dress of his forefathers, 
 who lived two thousand years before him. But 
 when in a country like England, so far removed 
 from the scene of the events recorded in the 
 Bible, such an occurrence takes place, and that 
 in the course of a country ramble, we are, in- 
 deed, led " from nature, up to nature's God." 
 Not only can we see how closely natural religion 
 is connected with the revealed Word of God, but 
 we can learn the same lesson (written in characters 
 of the present day) which is contained in Holy 
 Writ, namely, that the teaching of Christ is for 
 all nations. " Go ye and teach all nations," was 
 Christ's command to his Apostles. They went, 
 and taught ; and if we commune with the earth, 
 the earth teaches the same doctrine. 
 
 1 may here also mention another circumstance 
 connected with this part of my subject, tending to 
 illustrate a passage in Scripture with which you are 
 doubtless familiar ; I allude to Pharaoh's dream of 
 the seven ears of corn which came up on one stalk. 
 If you read the account given in the 40th chapter of 
 Genesis you will find that the stalks, both of good 
 
THE CORN-FIELD. 
 
 and bad wheat, are said to have borne seven ears. 
 It is not the number, therefore, which is signi- 
 ficant of the productiveness ; the fact that the first 
 
 EGYPTIAN WHEAT.' 
 
 stalk bare seven ears was not at all emblematical 
 of the abundance of the coming season, otherwise 
 the thin ears, being also seven in number, would 
 
 * Grown at St. Mark's College, Chelsea, 1842. 
 
26 THE CORN-FIELD. 
 
 also indicate plenty ; but in both cases the number 
 only prefigured the duration of abundance or of 
 famine. That seven ears of corn should grow on 
 one stalk, is in this country a thing of most sin- 
 gular occurrence, but in Egypt it was no more 
 unusual than for seven kine to be feeding together 
 in one meadow, for in that country wheat did not 
 grow as it does in England, but generally as many 
 as six or seven ears on a stalk. This was acci- 
 dentally ascertained only a few years ago, and 
 in a way which, if you were to think as long as 
 you please, you would never find out. It hap- 
 pened thus : The ancient Egyptians were in the 
 habit of embalming their dead ; that is, when 
 any one died, they prepared his body in a peculiar 
 way, with spices and herbs, wrapped it very tightly 
 in long bands of linen, and having placed it in a 
 coffin made of very durable wood, deposited the 
 whole in a dry cave or cellar. Dead bodies treat- 
 ed in this manner (mummies as they are called) 
 last for a very long time, as long, perhaps, as three 
 or four thousand years. Many have been brought 
 to Europe, and have excited much curiosity among 
 learned men, because sheets of paper, called papyri, 
 containing a history of the person in whose coffin 
 they are enclosed, are frequently found with them ; 
 and the coffins also are covered with paintings of 
 the principal occurrences in their lives. It has 
 been thought, that if these writings and paintings 
 could be deciphered, great light would be thrown 
 upon the history of ancient Egypt, so that, when- 
 ever a coffin is brought to Europe, the opening 
 of it is looked on as a somewhat important event. 
 A few years ago it was announced that a mummy 
 was to be unrolled at the British Museum, and a 
 
THE CORN-FIELD. 27 
 
 number of persons interested in the subject were 
 present on the occasion. While the operation was 
 going on, a gentleman who was standing by, ob- 
 served some grains of wheat fall out of the linen 
 folds, and picked them up, with the intention of 
 planting them, and seeing whether they still re- 
 tained the power of vegetation. This he did; 
 one seed grew, soon became a healthy plant, 
 and produced stalks, each 
 of which bore from five 
 to seven heads, exactly 
 answering the description 
 given in the account of 
 Pharaoh's dream. The 
 annexed wood-cut is co- 
 pied from an ear which 
 grew from seed produced 
 by this very plant. 
 
 Now, although we do 
 not exactly want such 
 evidence to the truth of 
 the Bible, as is offered 
 by the above anecdotes, 
 yet, to say the least, it is 
 very interesting to be 
 able to examine records 
 of past ages, which nature 
 has had in her own keep- 
 ing for such immense pe- 
 riods ; and it is no less in- 
 structive, for we may hence learn that there may 
 be many things in the Bible seemingly strange 
 and unaccountable, only because we have no clue 
 to enable us to enquire into them, and so under- 
 stand their meaning and application. 
 
 EGYPTIAN WHEAT. 
 
28 THE CORN-FIELD. 
 
 There are, indeed, numerous passages in the 
 Bible the meaning of which we can illustrate 
 and render more intelligible by reference to the 
 natural history and customs of Eastern countries. 
 To this class belong Isaiah xxxii. 20 : " Blessed 
 are ye that sow beside all waters, that send forth 
 thither the feet of the ox and the ass;" and 
 Eccles. xi. 1, " Cast thy bread upon the waters, 
 for thou shalt find it after many days." In the 
 latter of these passages allusion is made indi- 
 rectly to the custom, still practised in oriental 
 countries, of sowing rice after a flood on inun- 
 dated lands, and before the water has subsided; 
 and in the former, to the practice of driving oxen 
 and other domestic animals into the rice lands 
 as soon as the floods have retired, in order that 
 by trampling on the ground they may bury the 
 seed so deeply as to prevent it from being scorched 
 up by the fervent rays of the sun. It is not un- 
 usual in this country to drive flocks into corn- 
 fields in the early spring months for a somewhat 
 similar purpose. 
 
 Before we quit the corn-field and pass out into 
 yonder shady lane, where, I dare say, we shall find 
 something to look at and talk about, we will gather 
 some of the flowers which make such a show 
 among the corn; and these, with a few honey- 
 suckles and dog-roses, which, without doubt, 
 grow somewhere in our way homewards, will 
 make almost as pretty a nosegay as we could 
 gather in a garden. The farmer will, doubtless, 
 allow us to pull two or three ears of corn, and 
 when we have admired the compactness with 
 which the grains are arranged, and the care 
 which appears to have been taken in protect- 
 
THE CORN-FIELD. 29 
 
 ing them by their chaffy coats, from heat or 
 cold, drought or wet, they shall form the back 
 of our nosegay. One or two bunches of the 
 light feathery grass, which grows on the edge 
 of the pathway, will be a very nice addition. 
 
 CORN FLOWERS. 
 
 Here are some beautiful sky-blue flowers which 
 we cannot pass by; they are " Corn Pinks," or 
 " Blue Bottles,"* well worth looking at now, on 
 
 * Centaurea Cyanus, 
 
30 THE CORN-FIELD. 
 
 account of their brilliant colour, and equally 
 worthy of being examined at home for the sake 
 of observing their curious brush-like seeds. Then 
 there are " Corn Cockles,"* with their large rose- 
 coloured petals, and narrow green calyx leaves 
 showing their tips from underneath " Fumi- 
 tory,"-)- with its delicate green leaves, and small 
 flowers, much resembling tubes of pink glass 
 tipped with dark purple Wild Scabious, very 
 like a plant that grows in gardens, sometimes 
 called " Mournful Widow," only it has lilac 
 flowers, instead of dark purple " Pimpernel," J 
 sometimes called " Poor-man's weather-glass," be- 
 cause by shutting its flowers before rain, it tells 
 poor men who have no weather-glasses that it is 
 going to be wet " Mouse-ear," with its tiny 
 blue flowers, very like the " Forge t-me-not,"|| 
 which grows in watery places, only much smaller ; 
 we will have nothing to do with those flaunting 
 " Red Poppies," ^f for besides that they will stain 
 our fingers, they do not smell at all agreeably : 
 but we will complete our bouquet with two or 
 three heads of " White Clover," ** which though 
 they are not remarkably pretty, will, when it draws 
 towards evening, become so fragrant as to make 
 up for the want of perfume in many of the others. 
 And now, having gathered a handful, let us pro- 
 ceed on our ramble. 
 
 * Agrostemma Githago. t Fumaria capreolata, 
 Anagallis arveusis. Myosotis urvensis. 
 
 || Myosotis palustr is. TT Papaver R/neas. 
 
 ** Tri folium repens. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE HEDGE-BANK. 
 
 To me the meanest flower that blows can give 
 Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. 
 
 WORDSWORTH. 
 
 VERY early indeed in the spring, before the Cro- 
 cus has had time to push up its golden flowers 
 through the unfrozen earth of our garden-borders, 
 and before even the snowdrop has ventured to peep 
 out from the compact flower-sheath in which it 
 has for the last few weeks been wrapped, waiting 
 for its own turn to enliven the face of nature, 
 while patches of snow are yet to be seen here and 
 there, lurking under hedges and beside haystacks, 
 where the rays of the sun cannot reach them,* 
 while the redbreast and the wren are the only 
 songsters who have recovered their voices, while 
 the rivulets still continue to overflow their banks 
 from the effects of melting snow, and broken 
 sheets of ice are still to be seen a little below the 
 surface of ponds, before nature is quite aroused 
 from her long winter's sleep, even thus early in 
 the year you will be almost sure to find one cheer- 
 ing harbinger, to hold out the promise of sunny 
 days and genial showers. This is what has been 
 fancifully called the first rose of the year, or 
 
 * Called, in some parts of the country, " snow-bones/' 
 
02 THE HEDGE-BANK. 
 
 Primrose.* I do not mean to say that you will, 
 at this early season, ever find the hedges as 
 thickly set with primroses as the sky in a winter's 
 night is with stars, (for a spectacle so cheering you 
 must await the arrival of a more genial season,) 
 but, that by dint of vigilant searching, you may 
 discover in some sheltered nook a plant which has 
 thrown out a bunch of genuine spring leaves, en- 
 folding two or three half-expanded primrose buds. 
 
 SNOWDROP. 
 
 If you can call to your recollection a corner, shel- 
 tered from the east and north winds, (a bank 
 sloping, perhaps, towards the south or south-west,) 
 where the soil has not been disturbed for a great 
 
 * Primula vulgaris. 
 
THE HEDGE-BANK. 38 
 
 number of years, and is principally composed of 
 decayed vegetable substance, there, in the first or 
 second week in January, and sometimes even ear- 
 lier, you will probably be greeted with a Primrose 
 or two. Should you be thus fortunate, however, 
 you may still have some difficulty in securing 
 your prize ; for the chances are that the earliest 
 flowers peep out temptingly from among dry oak- 
 leaves, and brambles yet retaining a few of last 
 year's leaves, (mottled with white and brown veins 
 and spots, and curled at their edges,) and, alas ! 
 on the further side of a pond, just deep enough to 
 render crossing it a far from pleasant process. It 
 is a hard matter to refrain from wetting one's feet 
 for such a reward ! 
 
 A Primrose in January ! It is worth a whole 
 handful of Snowdrops. Snowdrops are indeed 
 graceful, lovely flowers; but they come only at 
 their regular season, and though aptly called 
 " first offerings of the year," and " harbingers of 
 spring," they are, as their name implies, associated 
 rather with winter than with spring. But a Prim- 
 rose ! a flower of April, greeting us with its pale 
 though lovely tint, in December or January, dis- 
 pels for a while the thought of winter, "with all 
 his rising train vapours, and clouds, and storms," 
 and carries us at once to bright sunny mornings, 
 lengthening days, and light showers, which, if they 
 for a while prevent us from wandering abroad, 
 will make our ramble yet more pleasant when 
 they are at an end. If at any time you wish to 
 gather primroses that you may take them home 
 with you, and keep them in water, do not pluck 
 the flowers only ; for, besides that a mass of flow- 
 ers all of one colour is not nearly so pleasing an 
 
 D 
 
34 THE HEDGE-BANK. 
 
 object to the sight as when relieved by other tints, 
 they will retain their freshness for a short time 
 only if they have been gathered one by one. In- 
 stead of this, then, break off bunches of leaves and 
 flowers together a little way below the crown of 
 the root, and your flowers will, when they are 
 placed in water, look quite as pretty as they did 
 when growing ; they will remain fresh for a very 
 long time, and the unopened buds will expand 
 nearly as well as if they were suffered to remain 
 where nature had placed them. This difference is 
 caused by the absence or presence of leaves ; for 
 leaves are not, as many people suppose, merely 
 ornamental to plants, but are absolutely necessary 
 to their perfect developement. All animals, you are 
 well aware, must have free access to air, or life will 
 soon become extinct. The atmosphere which we 
 breathe is composed of several gases, one of which 
 (called oxygen) being received through the mouth 
 by inspiration into the lungs, causes an alteration 
 in the appearance and character of the blood, and 
 no animal can remain in a healthy condition unless 
 this process be constantly and regularly carried 
 on. Plants have not, like animals, distinct organs, 
 such as hearts and lungs, but yet a kind of circu- 
 lation is carried on in their stems and leaves, the 
 latter performing nearly the same office for them 
 that lungs do for animals. The roots draw up 
 nourishment from the earth, which is carried 
 through the stem to the leaves. The surface of 
 the leaf is composed of a very thin transparent 
 skin, (called the cuticle,) perforated with innume- 
 rable exceedingly minute pores. Through these 
 air is admitted to the substance of the leaf, upon 
 which carbonic acid gas acts very much in the same 
 
THE HEDGE-BANK. DO 
 
 way as oxygen on the lungs. The sap changes 
 its colour from white to green, and after being 
 altered in other respects, is sent back through 
 the leaf-stalk into the 
 main stem, from which it 
 rises again to all parts of 
 the plant. 
 
 The reason then why 
 primroses placed in water 
 without leaves soon fade 
 is, that water alone is not 
 their proper food, they re- 
 quire to be supplied with 
 sap, which has been ex- 
 posed to the action of the 
 atmosphere, and this pro- 
 cess can only be perform- 
 ed in the leaves. 
 
 In almost every hedge 
 you will find (if you 
 search for it, but not else, 
 for it has few pretensions 
 to beauty,) a little plant, 
 which, though inconspi- 
 cuous, is very singularly 
 constructed. This is the 
 hairy Bitter Cress.* It 
 sends up tufts of leaves 
 very early in the spring, 
 and, when young, it is 
 by no means despicable 
 as a salad. Its small 
 white flowers are insig- 
 nificant, and soon fall 
 
 BITTER CRESS. 
 
 Cardamine hirsuta. 
 
36 THE HEDGE-BANK. 
 
 off. When they are gone, long narrow pods grow 
 up in their place, not unlike the seed-pods of the 
 wall-flower, or garden stock. Each of them is 
 composed of three pieces, namely, an expanded 
 membrane, passing through the centre, and tw r o 
 elastic valves, one on each side of the central par- 
 tition. When the seeds are ripe, which takes 
 place before very many plants are in flower, the 
 lower part of each valve becomes detached from 
 the stem, curls itself up with astonishing rapidity, 
 and flies off, carrying the seeds with it to a dis- 
 tance of two or three yards, or scattering them in 
 its way. This is one, among very many examples, 
 of skilful contrivance for the dispersion of seeds, 
 of which, as there are some that will probably fall 
 in your way, I shall say a few words. No one 
 who has walked through a wood or shady lane in 
 April can have failed to notice a small, white, bell- 
 shaped flower, beautifully veined with lilac, lurk- 
 ing among delicately green clover-like leaves. It 
 is called " Wood-Sorrel,"* but, perhaps, you may 
 know it by the name of " Rabbits'-meat." The 
 whole plant possesses a grateful acid flavour, and 
 is, it is said, a fair substitute for gooseberries 
 when made into a tart. Some antiquaries main- 
 tain that it was this plant from which St. Patrick 
 plucked a leaf when he wished to explain to his 
 disciples the doctrine of the Trinity. The sham- 
 rock, now worn by the Irish on St. Patrick's day, 
 is a kind of trefoil, which grows in meadows ; but 
 when St. Patrick preached Christianity in Ireland 
 the greater part of the country was covered with 
 woods ; it is very likely, therefore, that he might 
 at the time have been walking through a wood- 
 
 * Oxalis Acetosella. 
 
THE HEDGE-BANK. 37 
 
 land country, and supposing this to have been the 
 case, his attention would be naturally arrested by 
 the " Wood-Sorrel," the leaves of which are, about 
 the middle of March, (when St. Patrick's day falls,) 
 very conspicuous among the dry leaves of the pre- 
 ceding year. It is a lovely little plant, and would 
 be interesting if it had nothing to recommend it 
 but the elegance of its leaves and flowers ; but the 
 principal reason I have for mentioning it to you 
 is, that I may direct your attention to it on some 
 hot summer's day, when its flowers have faded, 
 and its leaves grown large and strong. You will 
 then find hidden among the latter 'an angular seed 
 vessel, containing several seeds, each of which is 
 enclosed in a tunic of net-work, so elastic that it 
 will, when ripe, split down on one side, and by 
 pressing on the seed project it to the distance of 
 several feet, much in the same way that you may, 
 by pressing an orange-pip between your fingers, 
 shoot it across the room. The first time that I 
 searched for the seeds of the wood-sorrel, to see if 
 the account I had heard of them was correct, I 
 met with a very convincing proof that the plant 
 had the power of scattering its own seeds, for they 
 not only escaped from my hands, leaving their 
 covering behind them, but one of them most un- 
 ceremoniously skipped into my eye, and caused 
 me no little pain and inconvenience. 
 
 If you have ever passed through a furze-brake, 
 on a sunny day in July, you have, I dare say, 
 heard sharp crackling sounds on all sides of you : 
 these are occasioned by the sudden bursting of the 
 pods of the Furze,* which are composed of a dry, 
 horny substance, and, immediately that they are 
 
 * Ulex 
 
38 THE HEDGE-BANK. 
 
 opened by the heat, suddenly curl themselves into 
 a spiral form, and scatter their seeds to a consider- 
 able distance. But for such a contrivance as this, 
 we should rarely be able to find a young furze 
 plant, until the old ones had either decayed or 
 been cut down ; for the bushes grow so closely to- 
 gether, and at so short a distance from the ground, 
 that if the seeds fell perpendicularly, many of them 
 would rest in the thick bush, and those that did 
 reach the ground would be entirely deprived of 
 light, while the branches of the old plants would 
 be so thickly matted over them, that, if they took 
 root at all, they would be choked, and would 
 never come to perfection. The providence of God 
 has so ordered, that scarcely any seedling tree will 
 grow under the shade of a larger one of the same 
 kind. It may send up a few leaves, but if not 
 transplanted, rarely thrives ; for, after lingering in 
 a very unhealthy condition for a year or two at 
 the most, it dwindles away and dies. 
 
 " Whence then," you will ask, " proceed our 
 forests of oak, and beach, and sycamore, and many 
 more trees ? How comes it that the hills are con- 
 cealed from our sight by the variegated tapestry 
 of nature, our rivers fringed with the foliage of 
 numberless stately trees ?" He who in the begin- 
 ning bade the earth bring forth trees yielding 
 fruit after their kind, by his single word allotted 
 them their place in the universe, framed the laws 
 which are to direct and govern their growth, and so 
 harmoniously arranged the whole system of which 
 they are a minute portion, that every apparent 
 defect is remedied before it is felt ; and not one of 
 the myriads of operations which are constantly 
 going on in nature is at any time imperfect. 
 
THE HEDGE-BANK. 39 
 
 To sow a field, to plant a wood, are works for 
 man to accomplish at certain times, and at stated 
 intervals, being distinct works and complete in 
 themselves. But, to speak once for all, and, by a 
 word, to provide that the whole created world 
 shall flourish and be perpetuated for countless 
 ages, this is the work of God, carried out some- 
 times by humble agency and inconsiderable in- 
 struments, but on that account the more certainly 
 the handy work of an Almighty Being. 
 
 To illustrate my meaning : the willow tree is 
 adapted for growing on the banks of rivers, where 
 its quickly formed roots, while they meet with 
 nothing to retard their progress, serve to prevent 
 the river-banks from being washed away. They 
 produce seeds furnished with a light feathery ap- 
 pendage, which, whether the wind blows up the 
 stream, or the current flow down, will be carried 
 by one or the other to some convenient place of 
 growth. If a branch be broken off during a flood, 
 and be carried to a distant spot, wherever it is 
 washed on shore, there it takes root. It needs no 
 planting, for its own weight will bury it deeply 
 enough in the mud in which it is driven, no 
 watering, for the stream which brought it to the 
 spot where it lies will continue to provide it with 
 moisture ; it matters not, even, which end be 
 buried in the earth, for roots will spring from any 
 part which touches the soil. 
 
 The seeds of the Ash and Sycamore trees are fur- 
 nished with light expanded borders, which readily 
 catch the wind, so that when they are blown off, 
 they are usually carried to a considerable distance 
 from the trunk of the tree on which they grow. 
 Neither of these trees casts its seeds as soon as 
 
40 THE HEDGE-BANK. 
 
 they are ripe, a circumstance which appears at 
 first to be of very trifling importance, but in effect 
 this peculiarity tends in no slight degree to ensure 
 a nursery of young seedling trees. At the season 
 when these seeds usually ripen, the air for the 
 most part is still ; if, therefore, they were to fall 
 spontaneously as soon as matured, they would 
 drop on the ground beneath the tree, under the 
 shade of overhanging branches, and there, in all 
 probability, perish. But being, even when ripe, 
 firmly attached to the branches, they do not fall 
 unless some degree of violence is exerted. In 
 stormy weather, therefore, the wind separates 
 them from the tree, and at the same time blows 
 them to such a distance that great numbers fall 
 in situations where they want nothing but the 
 return of spring to make them vegetate. The 
 seed of the Sycamore is also interesting from 
 its being protected by a downy lining of the 
 seed- case from wet and cold, to which it is par- 
 ticularly liable to be exposed while hanging on 
 the tree. 
 
 JBeeches and Oaks shed their nuts and acorns as 
 soon as they are ripe, that is to say, in weather 
 which is usually calm : winged seeds would, there- 
 fore, be of little use to them, and they are not 
 provided with them. Beech-nuts and acorns, 
 then, fall perpendicularly to the ground, where 
 they would remain, probably, till they rotted, had 
 not nature provided other means for disseminating 
 them. They are the favourite food of wood- 
 pigeons and other birds, who, carrying them off 
 and frequently dropping them in their flight, sow 
 them in situations well-adapted for their growth. 
 Squirrels and dormice, also, store them away in 
 
THE HEDGE-BANK. 41 
 
 their deposits ; and, as they often collect more 
 than they can consume during the winter, the 
 spring converts their barns into a nursery of forest- 
 trees. The seeds of the Dandelion (" clocks," as 
 they are sometimes called,) are too well known to 
 you to need any description. Their curved taper- 
 ing seeds, their feathery crown, supported on a 
 stalk so slender that you would fancy the slight- 
 est breath would at once demolish it ; there 
 they sail, looking as if they were delighting in the 
 sunshine and breeze, equally with yonder gnats 
 or dragon-flies. Now they rise for a few feet, 
 and are wafted straight in the direction of that 
 clump of beeches, where they will certainly be 
 stopped ; and, if this once happens, they will 
 scarcely be able to set out again on another 
 voyage ; for, though while they are floating in 
 the air they are perfectly safe, let the wind blow 
 as hard as it please, as soon as they touch the 
 ground their sport is at an end, they. fall over 
 on their side, the stem which supports their 
 crown is snapped, the seed remains on the 
 ground, the down rises again, and flies about, 
 perhaps, till it is caught in the web of some spider, 
 who soon sets it free again as a very unprofitable 
 visitor, or till some hungry bird snatches at it, and, 
 to his disappointment, finds that it will not supply 
 him with the food which he expected to find ; for 
 this portion has been left behind in some crevice 
 of the ground, where it will next year spring up, 
 and in due time send out a fresh colony of ad- 
 venturers. 
 
 We shall probably find, as we stroll by the 
 wayside, some plants of " Burdock."* These have 
 * Arctium Lappa. 
 
3*5 THE HEDGE-BANK. 
 
 their flowers and seeds collected into heads, called 
 " burs" which are furnished with numerous hooks, 
 serving to attach them so 
 closely to the hair and 
 fleece of animals touch- 
 ing them, that they are 
 carried sometimes for 
 miles away from their 
 native spot. The large 
 seeds of the Hound's- 
 tongue,* which grows in 
 waste places by the sea, 
 are covered with num- 
 berless barbed spikes, 
 THE BURDOCK. answering the same pur- 
 
 pose. It is impossible 
 
 to walk through places where they grow in abun- 
 dance without having the lower part of your dress 
 covered with them. 
 
 Among our hedge-plants, I shall mention every 
 one's favourite, the " Sweet-scented Violet,"-)- one 
 of the most fragrant of our British flowers. This 
 you know so well, that I scarcely need say any- 
 thing about it. You may, however, possibly find 
 a difficulty sometimes (especially if the weather be 
 cold, when such flowers lose their fragrance,) in 
 deciding whether your flowers be really Sweet 
 Violets or not. To save you the mortification of 
 gathering a bunch and then throwing them away, 
 I will give you a few hints. Outside the coloured 
 leaves or petals, as they are called, of most flowers, 
 you will find a row of small green leaves, or a sin- 
 gle leaf shaped like a cup, called the calyx. When 
 
 * Cynoglossum vulgare. t Viola odorata. 
 
THE HEDGE-BANK. 43 
 
 you wish to determine whether your Violets are of 
 the sweet sort or not, examine the calyx leaves : 
 if they taper to a sharp point, the plant is a Dog- 
 Violet ;* if the ends of the calyx leaves are round- 
 ed off and blunt, you must take a further look at 
 the root, for there are two kinds whose calyx 
 leaves are thus constructed. Of these, the Sweet 
 Violet is one, and is easily distinguished from the 
 other -f- by its being furnished with long shoots, 
 which creep along the ground and throw out a 
 few leaves and roots here and there. This cha- 
 racter will also help you to distinguish the right 
 sort, if you should wish to transplant some into 
 your garden at the fall of the year. But, plant 
 them in gardens, or greenhouses, or where you 
 will, though you may thus make them blow ear- 
 lier, or bear double flowers, you will rarely be 
 able to produce a flower which can vie with a 
 genuine hedge-row Violet, either in vigour, beauty, 
 or odour. 
 
 " Oh ! where can Nature, through her wide domains, 
 Boast other odours half so sweet as thine ? 
 Though the striped tulip, and the blushing rose, 
 The polyanthus broad with golden eye, 
 The full carnation, and the lily tall, 
 Display their beauties in the gay parterre, 
 In costly gardens, where th' unlicens'd feet 
 Of rustics tread not ; yet that lavish hand 
 Which scatters violets under every thorn, 
 Forbids that sweets like these should be confined 
 Within the limits of the rich man's wall ? " 
 
 A very singular plant, which is found in great 
 abundance in most parts of the country, is the 
 Arum, J commonly called " Cuckoo-pint," or " Lords 
 
 * Viola canina. t Viola hirta. J Arum maculatum. 
 
44 THE HEDGE-BANK. 
 
 and Ladies." I have no doubt that you know it 
 very well, but in case that you should not, I will 
 describe it, in such a way that if you choose to 
 search for it you will not fail to find it, and it will 
 
 well reward you for your trouble ; for I do not 
 know a more singular plant. Early in May, you 
 may, among brambles and young nettles, find beds 
 of broad shining leaves, occasionally spotted with 
 purple, growing directly from the ground, without 
 
THE HEDGE-BANK. 45 
 
 the intervention, I mean, of branches. They are 
 shaped somewhat like the barbs of an arrow at 
 the base, and terminate in a point. From the 
 midst of these rises a long, green, cylindrical bud, 
 shaped somewhat like the handle of a skipping- 
 rope, though scarcely as large. Carefully unrol 
 the leafy sheath which constitutes its outer cover- 
 ing, and you will find that it encloses either a 
 delicate pink or a rich crimson pillar, tapering at 
 the base and rounded at the summit, surrounded 
 underneath by several rows of pink and white 
 beading, the whole being as elegant in form as it 
 is brilliant in colouring. Long before I knew 
 whether this was to be considered as the flower 
 or fruit of the plant, I have amused myself with 
 collecting large numbers of them, and carrying 
 them home with me, for the purpose of unrolling 
 their cases, and sorting them into " Lords and 
 Ladies," the former being those brighter in co- 
 lour and more robust, the latter the more delicate. 
 There is, indeed, no real difference between them, 
 and the amusement was a childish one ; but if it 
 was childish, it was also innocent, and I think that 
 I can discover in the curiosity which then led me 
 to gather and unrol the buds of the Cuckoo-pint, 
 or in the pleasure which I felt in gathering a 
 hatful of daisies and butter-cups, the desire which 
 I believe to be implanted by God in the hearts of 
 all men, to inquire into and understand something 
 of the works of nature. 
 
 All children love flowers ; and, if all men and 
 women cultivated the same love of a study, of 
 which, be it remembered, God has taught them 
 the first lesson, they would not only have an inno- 
 cent and healthy recreation always within their 
 
46 THE HEDGE-BANK. 
 
 reach, but they would be engaged in a pursuit 
 which God has sanctioned, and they would daily 
 become acquainted with fresh evidences of His 
 wisdom and goodness. 
 
 I am now better acquainted with both the na- 
 ture and properties of the plant of which I have 
 been speaking ; I know the uses of the several 
 parts which compose the column, what is to be 
 considered the flower, and what will by-and-by 
 become the seed. The column itself, I am told, 
 has, when growing, the peculiar property of 
 evolving heat in quantities so considerable as sen- 
 sibly to affect a thermometer held near it ; and I 
 can conjecture what end in the economy of the 
 plant this property may answer. I know from 
 experience that the fresh juice of the whole plant 
 is so acrid that it will blister the tongue of any 
 one who tastes it ; and I can appreciate the rea- 
 sons which chemists assign for an alteration pro- 
 duced by the agency of heat, which takes away its 
 burning properties, and converts the mealy sub- 
 stance to be found in its roots into food as nutri- 
 tious as arrow-root : I know the soil which is best 
 adapted for its growth, where to look for the 
 embryo flower, which is yet enclosed within the 
 leaf-stalk, and before it has risen above the 
 ground; I can assign a reason for the roots re- 
 maining asleep and inactive during several months 
 each year, and I can name the seasons when 
 they contain more nutritive matter than at any 
 other. 
 
 This knowledge (for knowledge it is, little 
 though it be,) I have attained by fostering the 
 desire, implanted in me by the God of nature, of 
 searching into the things of nature. It is very 
 
THE HEDGE-BANK. 47 
 
 different, I am well aware, from the knowledge of 
 God, but compatible with it, and if duly directed, 
 calculated to promote it ; for I cannot believe that 
 He who taught me to search would inculcate a 
 lesson tending to anything but what was for my 
 good. Even now I never pass a spring without 
 unfolding the buds of " Cuckoo-pint," as I did 
 when a child ; not, perhaps, with the same desire 
 of satisfying my curiosity, but impressed with an 
 equal degree of admiration of God's wisdom, and 
 with feelings of deep thankfulness for His good- 
 ness. " Speak to the earth and it shall teach 
 thee," is a precept He conveyed into my mind 
 before I could read, and now that I can read arid 
 understand, I am thankful that this precept was 
 but the stepping-stone to another, " Lift up your 
 eyes on high, and behold who hath created these 
 things." 
 
 While speaking about the Cuckoo-pint, I men- 
 tioned a plant yet more common, which, though 
 not so remarkable in the eye of the casual obser- 
 ver, is perhaps still more worthy of the examina- 
 tion of the curious. This is the Nettle.* " Oh ! 
 those nasty Nettles!" I think I hear you say; 
 " What can there be interesting about them ? " 
 Rough, unsightly-looking plants as they are, no 
 less than three of the most beautiful of our Eng- 
 lish butterflies, when in their larva, or caterpillar 
 state, prefer their leaves to any other food. These 
 are the Peacock, and Smaller Tortoise-shell But- 
 terflies, which you may see, in bright summer 
 weather, flitting about like " winged flowers," or 
 occasionally alighting on some tall thistle, from 
 the long tubular flowers of which they sip up 
 
 * Urtica dioica. 
 
48 THE HEDGE-BANK. 
 
 honey with their flexible trunks ; and the Ata- 
 lanta, or Red Admiral, whose favourite food, while 
 he wears his more showy dress, is the honey which 
 exudes from ivy blossoms : on this he regales him- 
 self as long as it lasts, that is, to the very close of 
 autumn ; and, when the rains of winter have set 
 in, hides himself in some sheltered corner, but, as 
 if anxious to enjoy every hour of sunshine during 
 his "little year," takes an airing every fine day, 
 till the frosts of Christmas banish him from the 
 scene altogether. 
 
 Nettle-leaves afford a dainty repast to many 
 other insects besides these, while in their larva 
 state, and not to insects only. When boiled and 
 chopped small, they afford a nutritious and in- 
 expensive food for young ducks, who devour it 
 greedily ; and young nettle tops are said, like the 
 young shoots of the hop, to be a very cheap and 
 good substitute for Asparagus. This may be 
 the case, though I am somewhat inclined to doubt 
 it ; but the full-grown stems, if treated like Hemp, 
 may be applied to purposes very useful to man, 
 for they may be converted into a serviceable kind 
 of twine. These uses of the Nettle have never 
 before probably come under your notice. With 
 one of its properties, I dare say you are much 
 better acquainted, for it is a knowledge which is 
 generally acquired in a way no less strange than 
 easy, namely, by the touch. You have doubtless 
 discovered that nettles have the power of stinging 
 any one who meddles with them. If you will run 
 the risk of suffering a little pain for the sake of 
 gaining a little knowledge, grasp a leaf boldly and 
 firmly and gather it. It is covered, you will see, 
 with a countless multitude of small spikes, termi- 
 
THE HEDGE-BANK. 49 
 
 nating in exquisitely fine points. Each of these 
 rises from a swoln base, which contains in it a drop 
 of fluid, so acrid, that when received into the circu- 
 lation it irritates and inflames the part affected, so 
 as to cause considerable inconvenience, which lasts 
 sometimes for several hours. The mechanism by 
 which this process is carried on is most wonderful, 
 and on this account the nettle is what I have stated 
 it to be, an object well-worthy of the examination 
 of the curious. Each little spike, though so slen- 
 der as to be no more than barely visible to the 
 naked eye, is a hollow tube performing a two-fold 
 office ; first, that of piercing the skin, and next, that 
 of conducting the poison from the swoln part of the 
 base into the flesh of the person who touches it ; 
 for what appears to be a point is in reality the 
 open end of the tube. The spike itself is rigid, 
 while the case of poison is soft, yielding to the 
 slightest pressure. When you touch the leaf with 
 your hand gently, the spike pierces the skin and 
 buries itself to the base, so that the surface of the 
 skin presses on the bag of poison, some of which 
 is forced up through the tube and conveyed into 
 the wound, where it instantly mixes with the 
 blood, and causes the sensation of stinging, which 
 you find so annoying. 
 
 The construction of the sting in the bee and wasp 
 is precisely similar, the bag of poison being con- 
 cealed within the body of the insect, except when 
 it chooses to make use of its small but formidable 
 weapon, when it is placed in such a position as to 
 be pressed on by the surface which is wounded. 
 The dangerous fang of the viper, and the deadly 
 one of the rattle-snake, differ only in one respect : 
 being stouter than the stings of the bee and nettle, 
 
50 THE HEDGE-BANK. 
 
 if they were hollow at the end, they would be too 
 blunt to make a wound readily ; the tube, there- 
 fore, terminates at the side of the fang, at a short 
 distance below its summit, the part above being 
 solid. By this contrivance the point is strong and 
 sharp, while the poison is as effectually introduced 
 into a wound through the side of the weapon as 
 if it proceeded from the end. The reason why 
 the hand is not stung when the leaf of the nettle 
 is grasped boldly is, that all the spikes are crushed 
 and broken without piercing the skin. 
 
 Thus you see that the nettle, despicable as it 
 is in appearance, is furnished with an apparatus 
 which may with truth be called wonderful. So 
 minute, yet so exquisitely contrived ! so simple, 
 yet so perfect ! A wise Creator must indeed have 
 been engaged here ! And the plant itself, seem- 
 ingly so vile and worthless, yet armed at all points 
 with myriads of cunningly wrought poisoned 
 spears, which wound our hands on the slightest 
 touch, and yet are browzed upon by quadrupeds, 
 not only without injury to their tender lips, but, 
 perhaps, affecting them pleasantly ! Whence does 
 the poison come ? How is it that it is so diffe- 
 rent in its nature from the juice found in the 
 rest of the plant ? By what process was it sepa- 
 rated, and who directed that process ? This last 
 question is the only one that I can answer. He 
 who points the lightning He who governs the 
 world Who has fixed in their stations, and directs 
 in their courses the countless hosts of heaven 
 even He, the Almighty and beneficent Creator, 
 condescends to display His skill in the construc- 
 tion of so inconsiderable a thing as the sting of a 
 nettle. How watchful must He then be over the 
 
THE HEDGE-BANK. 51 
 
 only one of His works which He created to be 
 immortal! How mighty to destroy, and (happy 
 reflection for us) how willing to save ! 
 
 One of the most striking marks of God's good- 
 ness is, that He has placed us in a world, crowded 
 on every side with objects to the full knowledge 
 of which, strive as much as we may, we can never 
 attain. This seems, perhaps, a strange assertion, 
 but you will, I think, on reflection, agree with me. 
 He has told us in His word, that man is the first 
 of created beings, the first, I mean, in importance, 
 for to man was given dominion over all animals, 
 and to him and the inferior animals God gave 
 every herb and every tree for food. We have 
 every right to believe, therefore, that He takes a 
 very active interest in our welfare. Now we 
 might be, perhaps, (and indeed I fear too many of 
 us are,) so much engrossed with the desire of 
 pleasing ourselves as to lose sight of this protect- 
 ing care of our Heavenly Father, if no objects pre- 
 sented themselves to our notice but such as man 
 makes, of which we can fully understand the con- 
 struction and uses. 
 
 But as it is, if we rest our eye on what is to us 
 the most valueless thing in the creation (the sting 
 of a nettle for instance) we are lost at once in 
 wonder and amazement. We cannot conceive 
 how it grew, in what its peculiar property con- 
 sists, or what end it answers. The only point on 
 which we can satisfy ourselves is, that God is its 
 Creator, and that He exercises a miraculous care 
 in bringing it to perfection, and watching over it. 
 Hence we learn two most important lessons, two of 
 the principal, indeed, which are contained in Holy 
 Writ. First, " that our knowledge is not derived 
 
52 THE HEDGE-BANK. 
 
 from ourselves, or we should be able to extend it 
 as far as we pleased ; therefore, it must have been 
 given to us by Himself; and if we are dependent 
 on Him for the best of His temporal gifts, we are 
 dependent upon Him for all; and if for all our 
 temporal gifts, yet more so for all our spiritual 
 privileges; whatever, therefore, we now possess, 
 or shall enjoy hereafter, is the gift of God." 
 This lesson our ignorance teaches us. Secondly, 
 we know enough to see that " none but an Al- 
 mighty power could have created the most trifling 
 objects around us, and yet that these apparently 
 trifling objects are watched over and protected, 
 and brought to perfection, with as much careful- 
 ness as if they occupied the important station in 
 the universe which has been assigned to ourselves. 
 Hence we may infer not merely that an equal care 
 is extended over us, while we are fulfilling our 
 mission on earth, but that, as He made us par- 
 takers of an immortal nature, His interest in our 
 welfare extends to all eternity, and so, that far 
 from having pleasure in the death of him that 
 dieth, he would have us to accept the terms of 
 the gospel of Jesus Christ, and also to be ' made 
 perfect.' The care which he extends to the 
 meanest of created things, He surely does not 
 withhold from the noblest; if He brings to per- 
 fection the grass of the field, how much more 
 shall He make perfect him, whom He created 
 in His own image ! " 
 
 Time will not serve me to describe to you a half 
 of the pretty plants which you may at one season 
 or another meet with, in the course of a ramble 
 through one of the pleasant green lanes with which 
 England, more than any other country, abounds. 
 
THE HEDGE-BANK. 53 
 
 I will, therefore, only mention the names of a few 
 which you may look out for, and we will seek 
 shelter from the shower, which I apprehend is 
 coming on, in yonder wood. 
 
 Early in May, about the same time that the 
 Cuckoo-pint appears, the " Germander Speed- 
 well"* is very conspicuous with its bright blue 
 flowers, growing generally on banks which are 
 tolerably clear of brambles. The flowers will 
 probably drop off as soon as they are gathered, 
 and the stem droop very soon after ; but if placed 
 in water it will quickly revive, and the unopened 
 buds will expand in a room nearly as well as in 
 their native place, only the flowers will be somewhat 
 smaller, and not so dark in colour. The " Large 
 Stitchwort,"-)- you will, I dare say, find growing 
 near it, and flowering about the same time. It 
 has long wiry stems with leaves like grass, and 
 star-shaped flowers of a dazzling white, shining 
 like satin. I have sometimes, indeed, heard it 
 called " Satin flower." The "Night-shade," or 
 " Bitter sweet," J appears later in the season, 
 bearing bunches of drooping purple and yellow 
 flowers, shaped like those of the potatoe, and 
 scarlet berries. This is sometimes called " Deadly 
 Nightshade," but erroneously, the latter plant 
 being very different, both in appearance and 
 properties. It is much less common than the 
 Nightshade, and is generally found about old 
 quarries, and ruins, bearing large dark green 
 leaves, bell-shaped flowers of a lurid purple hue, 
 and black berries nearly as large as a cherry, 
 which it somewhat resembles, except that its 
 
 f Veronica Chamadrys. f Stellaria holostea. 
 
 if Solanum Dulcamara, p. 54. Atropa Belladonna. 
 
54 THE HEDGE-BANK. 
 
 base is surrounded by a green leaf. The berry 
 contains a deadly poison, and the whole plant 
 is, I believe, no less poisonous. Its juice, when 
 rubbed on the eyelid, has the remarkable pro- 
 perty of dilating the iris, so as to increase the 
 
 size of the pupil, 
 and is on that ac- 
 count found use- 
 ful in operations 
 on the eye. You 
 will probably find 
 also two species 
 of Potentilla,* 
 which have large, 
 bright, and very 
 beautiful yellow 
 flowers, rising but 
 a short distance 
 from the ground. 
 One of them, 
 called " Cinque- 
 foil," has, as its 
 name implies, 
 five leaves grow- 
 ing from a com- 
 mon stem ; the 
 other,called "Sil- 
 ver weed," is re- 
 markable for hav- 
 ing leaves which 
 are thickly in- 
 vested With a CO- 
 NIGHT-SHADE, OR BITTER SWEET. VCHng like white 
 
 * P. reptans and P. anserina. 
 
THE HEDGE-BANK. 55 
 
 floss silk. The " Fox-glove,"* the stateliest of 
 all our English herbaceous plants, needs no de- 
 scription; its name, according to some people, 
 is derived from " Folks- 
 gloves," Folk being a 
 name for the fairies. 
 The last that I shall men- 
 tion is the " Gromwell,"t 
 or " Grey Millett." I 
 know not how to de- 
 scribe it, so as to enable 
 you to find it when it is 
 in flower; but if you 
 should ever chance to 
 light upon a plant, with 
 straight stems, about two 
 feet high, rough leaves, 
 and bearing seeds one- 
 sixth of the size of a 
 pea, of a bluish grey 
 colour, and with a sur- 
 face as smooth as ena- 
 mel, you have found my 
 plant. The seeds are 
 very singular; so ex- 
 actly resembling small 
 sea-shells, that I have 
 seen people take up a 
 box of them, look at 
 them, and lay them 
 down again, with a full 
 conviction that the ob- 
 jects of their curiosity 
 had spent their lives in FOX-GLOVE. 
 
 * Digitalis purpurea. t Lithospernum officinale. 
 
56 
 
 THE HEDGE-BANK. 
 
 the bottom of the sea, instead of having ripened 
 among leaves and flowers. About a twentieth 
 part of the shell of each seed is pure flint ; hence 
 we need not be surprised at its hardness and ex- 
 quisite polish. 
 
57 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE WOOD. 
 
 Beneath the verdurous canopy, how sweet 
 
 To muse awhile, weaving delicious thought 
 
 In Fancy's fairy bower ! H. i. j. 
 
 IN thus taking refuge from the rain under the 
 shelter of a tree, like this noble oak which over- 
 shadows us, there is a pleasure which I can neither 
 describe nor account for. The air is perfectly 
 still, and, to judge from the increased and constant 
 pattering of the drops on the broad overhanging 
 leaves, the rain is falling very smartly. But the 
 blackbird, and the woodlark mind it as little as we 
 do ; they are chanting away merrily enough. 
 Not an insect is to be seen ; fly, bee, and butterfly, 
 have all been guided by an instinct that never 
 deceives them, to take refuge in some place of 
 security. A few gnats only are performing a fan- 
 tastic dance in the air, being possessed, it would 
 seem, of the power of eluding the drops. 
 
 Nature is apparently as much refreshed with 
 the cool sprinkling which she is undergoing, as we 
 should be with a sea-breeze on a sultry day in 
 July. We cannot yet venture forth from our 
 hiding place, but we may, even here, find some- 
 thing to amuse, and probably to instruct us. 
 
 The ground in the immediate vicinity of the 
 
58 THE WOOD. 
 
 tree is, you observe, perfectly dry. Half-aii-hour's 
 hard rain would scarcely penetrate the thick shade 
 which shelters us, and moisten the soil about its 
 trunk. You would fancy, then, that in summer, 
 when trees are furnished with leaves, and when 
 they most need moisture, they have it least in their 
 power to obtain it. This is not at all the case, 
 for the leaves, as I have before told you, are able 
 to absorb moisture in great quantities, not only 
 from actual rain, but from the air ; and if you do 
 but think what a very large surface they present to 
 the atmosphere, you will readily see that the quan- 
 tity of nourishment which a tree loses by having 
 its roots sheltered from wet, is more than compen- 
 sated by the absorbing power of its leaves. Won- 
 derful to say too, the drops that after a long con- 
 tinued rain do reach the ground in the immediate 
 neighbourhood of the trunk, do not at all tend to 
 its support. They penetrate into the ground and 
 are lost, or, if the ground be warm, soon evaporate, 
 but are not supped up by the rootlets ; and for this 
 very good reason ; Providence has not placed any 
 roots having the power of absorbing moisture, 
 where they could not be constantly employed. At 
 a short distance from us, where you see by the 
 motion of the grass and dead leaves lying on the 
 ground, that rain is falling, if you were to dig a 
 slight depth beneath the surface, you would find 
 the roots divided into an infinite number of small 
 fibres. These are the roots which supply the tree 
 with nourishment, and they all terminate either 
 immediately under the branches from which the 
 drops fall most abundantly, or just beyond them, 
 where the ground is fully exposed to the rain. 
 It is a general rule that the roots of a tree ex- 
 
THE WOOD. 59 
 
 tend at least to an equal distance from the trunk 
 under ground that the branches do above. 
 
 You know, I dare say, that it is a very difficult 
 thing to make a large tree grow, after having been 
 transplanted. Now, what is the reason of this? 
 Old trees, you may think, like old people, are 
 attached to places where they have spent their 
 early years ; they are accustomed to a certain soil, 
 and have not vigour enough to acquire new habits. 
 This is very romantic and pretty, but I doubt 
 much whether it be true. At all events, I can 
 give you a reason, which, if it be not poetical, is at 
 least so far satisfactory that it is founded on 
 facts. When an attempt is made at transplanting 
 a tree which has attained a considerable size, no 
 great difficulty is encountered in removing the 
 large roots ; they are strong and tough, and will 
 stand a great deal of rough treatment ; but when 
 you come to the delicate fibrous roots, which 
 alone supply the tree with nourishment, they are 
 so intertangled with each other, they have so firm 
 a hold on the earth, and are withal so fragile, 
 that although you may succeed in removing the 
 tree, you leave behind that which should supply- 
 it with food, and consequently when replanted it 
 is starved to death before it can send out new 
 roots. To prove that this is the reason, I may 
 mention an experiment, which has been repeat- 
 edly tried with great success. It is desired to 
 transplant a large tree from a wood to an orna- 
 mental piece of ground in a park, or garden. 
 Instead of attempting the impossible task of saving 
 unhurt the fibrous roots, which extend to a great 
 distance on all sides, the plan adopted is, to dig a 
 tolerably deep trench round the trunk, at the dis- 
 
60 THE WOOD. 
 
 tance of a few feet from it, cutting quite through 
 every large root that presents itself. The con- 
 sequence is, that the tree, no longer nourished by 
 its remote rootlets, is checked in its growth, and 
 immediately provides itself with a remedy. To 
 supply the loss, it sends out from the parts that 
 remain, new rootlets, all of which are of necessity 
 very close together, and if likely to become en- 
 tangled with each other and the surrounding earth, 
 so much the better. After having been allowed 
 to stand in this state for a year or two, it is under- 
 mined, and may be removed to any distance, bear- 
 ing with it the newly-formed rootlets undisturbed; 
 for they are enclosed in a mass of soil, which is 
 carried with them, protecting them from injury 
 during the removal, and supplying them with 
 nourishment until the tree is become permanently 
 fixed in its new habitation, when they increase in 
 size, and in time supply the place of the great 
 roots which are left behind. 
 
 I have said that, as a general rule, the roots of a 
 tree stretch as far from the trunk under ground 
 as the branches do above. If this be the case, it 
 will follow that trees, such as you frequently see 
 standing alone in a field or lawn, which are not 
 very lofty, but extend their branches far and wide, 
 are furnished with equally spreading roots. You 
 can recollect, I am sure, some favourite tree, the 
 branches of which reached to a great distance from 
 the bole or main stem, and so low that you could 
 easily climb into them, and find a comfortable 
 shady seat. Now, if you will take the trouble to 
 recollect the spot where this grew, you will remem- 
 ber either that it was in a field, or that there was 
 at least an open space in the direction in which 
 
THE WOOD. 61 
 
 the long arms extended. On the other hand, if 
 you go into a wood, the trees in which are planted 
 very close together, you will not find any with 
 horizontal branches. The trunks rise quite erect ; 
 probably they do not divide into branches till they 
 have reached a considerable height, or if they do, 
 the stems are nearly perpendicular. But examine 
 the trees on the skirt of the same wood; and 
 although they be of the same kind, and grow in 
 the same soil as those in the centre, they are 
 less lofty, but invariably spread towards the 
 open space. Here we see another wonderfully 
 wise provision of Nature. The tree which stands 
 in the middle of a field is exposed to the ac- 
 tion of the wind from which ever quarter it blows. 
 It does not therefore rise very high, or the wind 
 blowing against its leafy summit would exercise 
 on it a force similar to that of the human hand 
 acting on one end of a long lever (a crow-bar for 
 instance), and soon overthrow it. It is true, it 
 presents a very large surface to the action of the 
 wind, but the force exercised against it is coun- 
 terbalanced by the thickness of the stem (for un- 
 protected trees always have the stoutest trunks), 
 and by the very strong hold which its thick and 
 spreading roots have on the ground. Trees grow- 
 ing on the skirt of a wood have also low branches 
 and spreading roots on the exposed side, while the 
 inner branches are more lofty and approach nearer 
 to the perpendicular, their roots extending but to 
 a short distance when their support is little need- 
 ed. Those which grow in the central parts of a 
 wood, being protected by their neighbours from 
 the violence of storms, do not require spreading 
 roots to strengthen them, and therefore send their 
 
62 THE WOOD. 
 
 roots downwards in search of the nourishment 
 which, on account of their being sheltered from 
 rain, they could not find near the surface. If, as 
 it sometimes happens, a very violent storm uproots 
 the trees growing on the verge of a wood, the 
 consequences are as disastrous to those in the in- 
 terior as they would be to a besieged city, of which 
 the walls had been battered down. They are 
 snapped off or uprooted on all sides, encounter- 
 ing an assailant against whom they were not pre- 
 pared. The same results are to be apprehended 
 when the woodman imprudently cuts down the 
 timber which skirts a forest. This, I may remark, 
 is rarely done, for that which naturally serves as a 
 protection to a wood, is of the least use to man, 
 from its being short, while that which grows in 
 the interior is much more serviceable, from its 
 length and straightness. 
 
 Rain, besides performing the important office 
 of supplying leaves with nourishment, keeps them 
 in a healthy state by washing them. Leaves, as I 
 have before hinted, are copiously furnished with 
 pores, through which they both inhale and exhale. 
 These pores are exceedingly small, and would, in 
 all probability, become choked by dust and the 
 work of insects, if the surface of the leaf were 
 not occasionally cleansed, a process which is most 
 effectually performed by the sprinkling of rain. 
 The air which we breathe, and that inhaled by 
 plants, though proceeding from the same source, 
 are very different in kind. That which is alone 
 calculated to support animal life is called oxygen, 
 and is one of the constituent parts of the atmos- 
 phere which surrounds us. Every time we take 
 breath we receive a portion of it into our frames, 
 
THE WOOD. 63 
 
 when a part mixes with the blood, which it ren- 
 ders fit for circulation, and the remainder uniting 
 with carbon, a substance which we swallow in 
 most kinds of food, becomes carbonic acid gas, a 
 kind of air which is destructive of animal life.* 
 Carbonic acid gas, then, which is composed of two 
 ingredients, oxygen gas and carbon, is as ne- 
 cessary to support the life of plants, as oxygen is 
 of animals. It is received through the pores into 
 the leaves of plants, where it is separated into its 
 two constituent parts; the carbon is retained in 
 the leaf, and is deposited in the form of wood; 
 the oxygen is given out, and, mixing with the air, 
 purifies and fits it for the respiration of animals. 
 In this wonderful way do the animal and vegetable 
 worlds prepare sustenance for each other. Man and 
 the inferior animals never cease exhaling a gas which 
 goes to form the substance of vegetables ; and the 
 latter, while they are in an active state of existence, 
 that is, while there is light, are constantly emit- 
 ting a gas, of which if a due supply were to fail, 
 the whole animal world would cease to exist. 
 
 Pick up one of the withered leaves, many 
 kinds of which lie at your feet; it is to all ap- 
 pearance dead ; it has fulfilled the office for 
 which it was created, and is now utterly useless : 
 
 * Carbon enters largely into the composition of most in- 
 flammable substances. Charcoal is pure carbon ; coal is 
 carbon mixed with sulphur and another gas called hydrogen. 
 When carbon mixes with oxygen chemically, heat is the 
 result ; sometimes this heat is intense, when combustion takes 
 place, as when a fire is lighted ; at other times, heat is evolved 
 in a less degree, as when we breathe, and, in the latter case, 
 animal heat is produced. The heat observed in the Arum 
 (see page 44) and some other plants, proceeds probably from 
 a combination of oxygen and carbon. 
 
THE WOOD. 
 
 64 
 
 no matter how soon the wind may sweep it away, 
 or the cottager add it to the heap on his hearth, for 
 the loss of a single leaf can be a matter of no im- 
 portance. But, however insignificant it may be 
 in itself, no leaf is lost : if blown away by the 
 wind, it will be lodged probably in some corner 
 where it will soon crumble into dust ; if burnt, 
 its ashes will be carried out, and help to fertilize 
 the cottager's garden. As a leaf, it is no longer 
 of any value ; and God has prepared a minute and 
 an unobtrusive agent, which will speedily reduce 
 it to such a state that it may again perform an 
 office assigned to it by Himself. You will ob- 
 serve that it is spotted with a few black or brown 
 marks, somewhat roundish in appearance, but of 
 no well-defined form. Each of these is a perfect 
 plant, very simple indeed, but produced from 
 seed, growing, and producing seed in its turn. 
 It derives its nourishment from the substance of 
 the leaf, which it thus secretly converts into a 
 fine mould fit for the reception of the seeds of 
 any larger plants which may happen to be de- 
 posited in it. It belongs to a tribe of vegetables 
 not well-known, but most important in the eco- 
 nomy of nature ; not growing in soil adapted for 
 the production of other plants, but fixing them- 
 selves on all kinds of vegetable substance which 
 have attained maturity, or have ceased to live, 
 deriving sustenance from them, and crumbling 
 into dust, that they may in their turn afford a 
 resting-place for new forms of vegetable life. 
 They are called Fungi, and are not ^infrequently 
 termed a destructive tribe of plants, a character 
 which, indeed, they seem well to merit; but it 
 must be remembered, that they prey, in most 
 
THE WOOD. 65 
 
 cases, on substances which, having performed the 
 work for which they were created, have ceased 
 to be of any use, and that their principal office 
 is to convert dead wood and leaves into rich 
 layers of mould, fit for the growth of future 
 woods and forests. Some of them are so minute 
 that you require a powerful microscope to dis- 
 cover their form ; others attain to a very large 
 size. To the latter class belong the strange-look- 
 ing protuberances on the stump of yonder de- 
 caying Ash- tree. If you examine them closely, 
 you will find that, in their general appearance, 
 they somewhat resemble the valves of oyster- 
 shells : the upper surface is tough and horny, 
 sometimes variegated with beautiful colours ar- 
 ranged in concentric circles ; the under side is 
 perforated with numberless pores, like sponge. 
 This species is often found of large dimensions, 
 sometimes measuring as much as six or seven 
 feet in circumference, and weighing twenty or 
 thirty pounds. Another kind has been known 
 to grow, in a single night, from the size of a mere 
 point to that of a huge Gourd. Its substance is 
 composed of minute cells, which must have multi- 
 plied at the rate of 4,000,000,000 in an hour, 
 or of more than sixty -six millions in a minute. 
 Some species are with greater propriety called de- 
 structive ; these, under the name of Dry Rot, find 
 their way into the timber of houses and ships, 
 which in time they utterly destroy. Some are 
 good for food, as the Mushroom and Champignon. 
 Among these are some which grow underneath 
 the ground; they are called Truffles and Morels, 
 and, in countries where they are abundant, are 
 hunted by pigs and dogs trained to discover them 
 
66 THE WOOD. 
 
 by the scent. Several species are found in mea- 
 dows growing in circles. Fairy rings are caused 
 by the luxuriance of the grass in ground rendered 
 productive by the decay of Fungi, which originally 
 grew in the centre, and gradually extended in a 
 circular manner, adding their decomposed sub- 
 stance to the soil. One species is found only on 
 the bodies of dead flies ; another comes to maturity 
 only on the inside of grains of wheat, when it is 
 called Rust; another is very frequently sent to 
 table (and in this case you may perhaps swallow 
 some hundreds of plants at a mouthful without 
 being aware of it) in the form of mould of cheese. 
 These vegetables, though the principal, are not 
 the only agents employed in converting fallen 
 leaves and dead wood into a substance adapted 
 to the reproduction of plants. Many kinds of 
 snails and other small land-shells find among the 
 faded honours of the forest both shelter and food ; 
 numbers of minute beetles also assist, and innu- 
 merable other insects are everywhere busily em- 
 ployed in the same work ; so that you can scarcely 
 take up a particle of decayed vegetable matter 
 without discovering in it evidences of the presence 
 of active life, supported not merely on its own 
 account, but having a definite object assigned to 
 it, which, though not readily apprehended by the 
 uninquiring mind, (especially when considered as 
 a single existence,) is, when collectively estimated, 
 of vast importance in preserving the balance of 
 nature. The very mould which attaches itself to 
 the dried specimens in your herbarium, and the 
 troublesome little beetle which perforates the 
 cabinet containing them, are instruments ap- 
 pointed by Providence for the restoration of ma- 
 
THE WOOD. 67 
 
 tured vegetable substance to a form which will 
 enable them to afford sustenance to new varieties 
 of vegetable life, and, through their instrumen- 
 tality, to new forms of animal existence. Such 
 objects, on account of their minuteness and seem- 
 ing insignificance, are often little noted ; but, when 
 they are closely and patiently scrutinized, attest 
 the wisdom and design of Omnipotence as dis- 
 tinctly as the most highly developed and most 
 complicately constructed organ of the noblest work 
 in the creation. None but a Mighty Being could 
 create and govern the solar system ; but to effect 
 so important an end as the maintenance of animal 
 and vegetable life, by the humble agency of insects 
 and Fungi, scarcely cognizable to our senses, 
 this would seem to require, if possible, a superior 
 Intelligence a Mind that not only can contrive 
 and execute a great work, but can do all this with 
 the simplest machinery a Being not only most 
 powerful but all powerful. And most merciful also 
 must be that Being, Who manifests to us His 
 omnipotence in an atom of the Creation barely 
 visible to the human eye, Whose beneficence is no 
 less visible in the blade of grass on which we tread, 
 than in the glorious luminary whose quickening 
 influence awakens it into life. The famous Sici- 
 lian philosopher, Archimedes, is said to have con- 
 ceived in his mind a machine sufficiently powerful 
 to move the world ; but no one, as far as I am 
 aware, ever devised a scheme of fertilizing a single 
 square foot of ground, without calling in, directly 
 or indirectly, the aid of agents whose interference 
 he could neither destroy nor check. 
 
 Plants which depend upon other organized 
 bodies for their support are called Parasites; 
 
68 THE WOOD. 
 
 they grow either on decaying substances, like 
 those which I have mentioned, or attach them- 
 selves to living plants, and indeed, in a few in- 
 stances, to living animals. Of the latter, the most 
 remarkable is a species of Fungus,* which is found 
 in New Zealand, growing from the head of I a 
 large caterpillar. Little is known about the 
 mode of its growth in this strange situation, but 
 it must be rapid; for, by the time that it has 
 arrived at maturity, it occupies the whole sub- 
 stance of the animal, the figure of which is pre- 
 served entire. Those which grow on living plants 
 are much more numerous, comprising a large por- 
 tion of the many-coloured and beautiful Lichens 
 which spot the trunks and branches of trees, a 
 great number of Mosses, and several Ferns. None 
 of these, however, actually insert their roots into 
 the substance of the wood on which they grow. 
 The Lichens and Mosses can scarcely be said to 
 possess roots ; the little threads which proceed 
 from their lower extremities seem only to attach 
 them to the bark ; and the Ferns, while they cling 
 closely to the rugged stems which support them, 
 depend principally for their nourishment upon the 
 mosses among which they grow, and the decayed 
 vegetable substance scattered among them. Some 
 plants, however, really live upon the juices of the 
 trees from which they spring. Among these, the 
 most remarkable is the Misletoe, so famous in 
 olden times with our forefathers. It attracted 
 their notice from two causes ; its flourishing with- 
 out the intervention of ordinary roots, and from 
 decking the trees on which it grew with its bright 
 green leaves and milky berries at mid-winter. On 
 * Sphteria Robertsii. 
 
THE WOOD. 69 
 
 the first day of the year it was gathered by the 
 Druids with peculiar solemnities ; it was cut with 
 a golden hook by the chief Druid, and caught in a 
 pure white cloth, and, after being consecrated to 
 the most powerful of their gods, was distributed 
 among the people as a remedy against all diseases. 
 In times much later it was thought to possess 
 extraordinary virtues : the possession of it, for 
 instance, was necessary in order that a man might 
 be made a magician ; any one, by holding a branch 
 in his hand, would be enabled not only to see 
 ghosts, but to force them to speak to him. In the 
 feudal days it was gathered with great solemnity 
 on Christmas-eve, and hung up in the great hall 
 with loud shouts and rejoicing. 
 
 " The damsel donned her kirtle sheen, 
 The hall was dressed with holly green, 
 Forth to the woods did merry men go, 
 To gather in the misseltoe. 
 Then opened wide the baron's hall, 
 To vassal, tenant, serf, and all." 
 
 But these imaginary virtues are now no longer 
 attributed to it, even although it may appear to 
 the many, on account of its peculiar mode of 
 growth, a plant of mystery. This is still as won- 
 derful as ever. The white berries, which are a 
 very conspicuous part of the plant, are composed 
 of an exceedingly viscid substance enclosing seeds, 
 and are the favourite food of the thrush, blackbird, 
 and especially the missel-thrush. These birds, 
 after regaling on the berries, fly to other trees, 
 carrying with them seeds attached by the clammy 
 substance to their beaks. After alighting, they 
 rub them against the bark, just as you may have 
 seen canaries cleaning their bills on their perches, 
 
70 THE WOOD. 
 
 and so transfer the seeds from themselves to the 
 trees. They adhere, by the means of the viscid 
 substance enveloping them, till the season of ger- 
 mination ; when there appears, rising through the 
 covering of the seed, a kind of rootlet which bends 
 down till it reaches the bark; it then swells out 
 like the extremity of the sucker of a house-fly, 
 and finally buries itself in the bark of the tree. 
 Leaves soon appear at the opposite extremity ; the 
 roots in the mean time having penetrated the bark, 
 and extending themselves between it and the soft 
 wood. New wood is formed by the tree overlying 
 the roots of the parasite, which thus become em- 
 bedded in its substance, and occasionally send up 
 suckers at some distance from the place where the 
 seed was deposited, much in the same way that 
 common trees multiply themselves. The Misletoe 
 is by no means a harmless visitor to the tree in 
 which it takes root; for, by robbing the branch 
 of its sap, it weakens and sometimes destroys it. 
 Hence, when it makes its appearance in orchards, 
 it is generally eradicated by careful farmers before 
 it has attained any considerable size. It grows 
 more frequently on the Apple than on any other 
 tree, but is sometimes found on the Poplar, Lime, 
 &c. It is most rare on the Oak ; and it was, when 
 found a parasite on this " Lord of the woods," 
 that it was held in such great veneration by the 
 Druids. You will find no difficulty in making 
 the seeds grow, if you rub the ripe berries against 
 the smooth bark of an Apple-tree in the winter, 
 or early in the spring. But take care that you do 
 not sow too extensively, unless the trees are your 
 own ; for, however anxious you may be to satisfy 
 your curiosity, you will receive but poor thanks 
 
THE WOOD. 71 
 
 from the owner of the orchard into which you in- 
 troduce your troublesome visitor. Valuable as our 
 forefathers deemed it, it will now yield, in exchange 
 for the nourishment which it withdraws from his 
 trees, nothing but a few sorry berries, useful for 
 no purpose but that of being converted into bird- 
 lime. 
 
 One of our very common plants may be termed 
 a half-parasite, namely, the Ivy. It inserts its 
 principal roots into the ground, and extends its 
 branches, as you must have many times observed, 
 along the surface of anything near it, such as walls, 
 rocks, and trunks of trees. If you attempt to 
 separate one of these young climbing stems from 
 the substance over which it grows, you will see 
 that it adheres very closely by means of numerous 
 fibres, springing from the innermost side of the 
 shoot. If the substance to which it clings be soft, 
 and capable of affording the plant nourishment, 
 these fibres become proper roots; this you may 
 prove by cutting the stem asunder, beneath the 
 point of union, when the upper portion will con- 
 tinue to flourish as before. If, however, the sur- 
 face to which they adhere be hard, the fibres 
 become dilated at the extremity, and seem only 
 to bind the plant to its supporter. The smoother 
 the surface is, the wider is the dilated disk, which 
 seems to know, as it were instinctively, that a slen- 
 der point could not attach itself to any but a 
 rugged substance. The Ivy, when young, has not 
 much to boast of on the score of beauty, except 
 upon close examination, and then its glossy green, 
 or pink leaves, with their meandering white veins 
 intersecting each other in every direction, are 
 very pretty. Sometimes (this is particularly ob- 
 
THE WOOD. 
 
 servable in woods) it creeps along the ground, 
 which it completely hides from the sight, forming 
 a tangled mat of shining dark leaves. Thus situ- 
 ated, it sends out none of the fibres described 
 above ; but numerous roots penetrating every- 
 where into the soil are found throughout the 
 whole of its length, and in every instance originate, 
 we may say, a new plant. It has therefore no 
 need of flowers, or seeds, and accordingly never 
 produces any, as long as it wears this character. 
 Ivy berries are found only on branches which grow 
 entirely without support; and such branches bear 
 neither roots nor tendrils, either of which, if pro- 
 duced on a part of the plant which shoots freely 
 into the air, would be superfluous : the former 
 could not shoot into the ground, and there is no 
 occasion that they should do so, for seeds here 
 ripen in abundance ; the latter could cling to 
 nothing for support, and they need none, for here 
 the branches are strong enough to support them- 
 selves. 
 
 The world perhaps cannot exhibit a more pleas- 
 ing sight than that afforded by a mass of bushy 
 ivy mantling a village church in some sequestered 
 part of our happy country. In summer, and in 
 winter, under the bright glare of day, and when 
 twilight has invested its deep green with a more 
 sombre hue, it is always the same, and always 
 beautiful, an apt emblem of the unchangeable 
 God, around whose temple it has grown. Scarcely 
 less interesting is it when it has closely invested 
 the trunk of some venerable giant of the forest, 
 now no longer able to boast of much verdure of its 
 own, liberally giving ornament in exchange for 
 support. 
 
THE WOOD. 73 
 
 Hast thou seen, in winter's stormiest day, 
 
 The trunk of a blighted oak, 
 Not dead, but sinking in slow decay 
 
 Beneath Time's resistless stroke ; 
 Round which a luxuriant ivy had grown, 
 And wreathed it with verdure no longer its own ? 
 
 Perchance thou hast seen this sight, and then, 
 
 As I at thy years might do, 
 Passed carelessly by, nor turned again 
 
 That scathed wreck to view. 
 But now I can draw from that perishing tree 
 Thoughts which are soothing and dear to me. 
 
 Oh ! smile not, nor think it a worthless thing 
 
 If it be with instruction fraught ; 
 That which will closest and longest cling 
 
 Is alone worth a serious thought ! 
 Should aught be unlovely which thus can shed 
 Grace on the dying, and leaves on the dead ? 
 
 BERNARD BARTON. 
 
 I have occasionally seen a large number of 
 moderately-sized trees so closely invested with 
 the luxuriant foliage of this plant as to present 
 in mid-winter the appearance of a vineyard ; but 
 it must be owned, I fear, that, greatly as trees are 
 indebted for their beautiful appearance to ivy, 
 their growth is much impeded by it. Not that 
 there is anything actually deleterious in its shade, 
 as some suppose, or that, according to others, its 
 fibres penetrate the bark of trees, and exhaust 
 their juices ; but, when it creeps and winds round 
 the trunks of the trees which support it, the ivy- 
 bands form a sort of net-work, and prevent them 
 from increasing in diameter. When this has taken 
 place, no room is left for the passage of the sap, 
 and the tree dwindles away, and sometimes dies in 
 consequence. Care, however, should be taken, in 
 
74 THE WOOD. 
 
 removing the inhospitable visitor, that the tree be 
 not stripped of its clothing all at once, lest it 
 should be killed by a sudden exposure to cold, 
 from which it had been previously screened. 
 
 And now that the rain has passed away, and 
 the sun is shining with a splendour which seems 
 to be redoubled, owing to his rays being reflected 
 from the wet leaves, we will sally forth from our 
 hiding-place, and continue our ramble. The first 
 thing we meet with worthy of remark is the pe- 
 culiar odour which floats in the air ; an odour only 
 observable in woods which are either damp from 
 their situation, or have been moistened by rain. 
 This proceeds in great measure from decaying 
 vegetable substance, and from Mosses generally, 
 but more particularly from some plants belonging 
 to a genus called Jungermannia. These, when 
 moistened, emit an odour which, though few per- 
 sons would class it among perfumes, is, from its 
 association with woods and streams, most deli- 
 cious. Few of the plants belonging to this genus 
 attain the size of three or four inches ; several are 
 so minute, that a magnifying glass is required to 
 ascertain even their outlines. The most fragrant, 
 
 (I use a word to which, 
 unless you love with 
 all your heart every 
 thing that the coun- 
 try produces, you will 
 probably object,) and 
 one of the common- 
 est,* rarely exceeds 
 an inch and a half in 
 
 JUNGERMANNIA RESUPINATA. length. It gTOWS Oil 
 
 * Jungermannia resupinata. 
 
THE WOOD. 75 
 
 moist banks, among Moss and other small plants, 
 and will elude your search, probably, until you 
 have acquired a good knowledge of most of the 
 larger plants. I am inclined to think that few but 
 botanists have ever seen it, and of them those 
 only who have turned their attention to the 
 more minute plants. The botanist takes note 
 not merely of trees and shrubs, and plants with 
 conspicuous flowers, but examines the structure 
 of the smallest vegetable that grows, well content, 
 if he cannot discover its use and the end for which 
 it is created, to contemplate it as an atom attest- 
 ing God's omnipotence. 
 
 From the summit of a stem barely an inch in 
 length, but bearing from twenty to thirty perfect 
 leaves, which, under the microscope, resemble the 
 most exquisite lace-work, runs a delicate white 
 thread, clear as glass, and so fragile that the slightest 
 touch will destroy it. On the summit of this is 
 a shining black globe, not half the size of a pin's 
 head, but containing, notwithstanding, some hun- 
 dreds, perhaps I might say several thousands, of 
 perfect, organised bodies. During wet weather 
 it retains this globular form ; but, after a short ex- 
 posure to a dry atmosphere, and especially to the 
 direct rays of the sun, it opens with four valves, 
 the partitions of which reach from its summit to 
 its base, and disclose a mass of ripe seeds ready to 
 be sown and to spring up into new plants. With 
 them are intermixed a vast number of infinitely 
 minute threads, thicker in the middle than at the 
 extremities, and containing within them a spiral 
 vessel, which as soon as the thread is exposed to 
 the dry air, or the rays of the sun, suddenly con- 
 tracts, and by its motion scatters the seeds with 
 
76 THE WOOD* 
 
 which it is in contact in all directions. Should 
 you never have an opportunity of examining the 
 plant, you may form a pretty good notion of the 
 manner in which it acts, by twisting a thin slip of 
 India-rubber and burying it under poppy seeds, 
 or some such small bodies. The elastic nature of 
 the India-rubber will enable it to recover its shape, 
 in doing which it will scatter the seeds in all 
 directions. But as there are many species of 
 Jungermannia, and nearly all of them grow in 
 similar situations, that is to say, in moist shady 
 places, you will scarcely fail, if you search in April 
 or May, to find one or other of them. Place one 
 of the seed-vessels under a microscope in the sun, 
 and you will soon see the valves open, and the 
 seeds flying away in all directions. If you have 
 no microscope, I would recommend you to procure 
 what is called a Stanhope lens,* which you will 
 find a never-failing source of amusement and in- 
 struction in your Botanical Rambles. Crush one 
 of the seed-vessels, and, having moistened with the 
 tongue the least convex side of the lens, attach 
 the bruised mass to the glass, and examine it. 
 It will seem at first to be nothing but a confused 
 assemblage of dark-coloured seeds : but watch it 
 closely, and you will discern, that, as the moisture 
 
 * The Stanhope lens is a small cylinder of solid glass, en- 
 closed in a case of silver, or some other metal, and having its 
 two extremities of different degrees of convexity, and conse- 
 quently two foci situated at unequal distances from the surface 
 of the lens. When the most convex side is turned towards 
 the eye, the focus falls exactly on the opposite surface, to 
 which the ohject to be examined should be attached. If 
 turned from the eye, the focus is situated at about the eighth 
 of an inch from the same side, at which distance the object 
 should be held. 
 
THE WOOD. 77 
 
 evaporates, the little threads (elaters, as they are 
 called, from their elasticity,) will set themselves in 
 motion, and very soon disperse the seeds, so that 
 none are left on the glass, with the exception of a 
 few which were placed out of their reach. 
 
 It would almost seem that nature has been more 
 solicitous to ensure the propagation of such incon- 
 siderable plants as that which I have described, 
 than of more stately vegetable productions. Not 
 only are they furnished with innumerable seeds, 
 but the seeds themselves are protected and dissemi- 
 nated by various contrivances, all of which are 
 most wonderful ; and, added to this, they are so 
 light that they float about in the air, and are ca- 
 pable of becoming plants, on almost every sub- 
 stance on which they alight. Walk where you 
 will, over heath, hill, or wood, you will scarcely be 
 able once to set your foot on the ground without 
 treading on some species of Moss : you may, per- 
 haps, cover with the palm of your hand some 
 hundreds of perfect plants, each of which shall 
 be furnished with roots, leaves, stem, and seed- 
 vessels, and every seed-vessel shall contain a count- 
 less number of seeds, so minute as to be singly 
 invisible to the naked eye. 
 
 From thirty to forty different kinds of Moss 
 grow, probably, within two or three yards of the 
 spot on which we are standing. Of these, some 
 have long straggling stems, which take root wher- 
 ever they touch the ground ; others are growing 
 in tufts on the rugged barks of neighbouring 
 trees ; some you will find springing from the per- 
 pendicular sides of banks, or crowded in dense 
 masses at the edges of streams. Different from 
 each other, as all are, in shape, mode of growth, 
 
78 THE WOOD. 
 
 and locality, they all agree in these respects they 
 are very tenacious of life, and exceedingly pro- 
 lific, in most cases producing abundance of seeds, 
 or, when they fail to do this, increasing rapidly by 
 means of their creeping stems. Their seed-vessels 
 are very singular, and, though minute, are very 
 complex in their structure. From amongst a set 
 of leaves, differing in shape from the rest, rises a 
 stem no thicker than a horse-hair, and extremely 
 tough, which, during the early stages of its growth, 
 tapers to a point. Soon the upper part begins 
 to swell, when it is found to be enclosed in a case, 
 shaped somewhat like a hood, either expanding as 
 the seed-vessel enlarges, or splitting down on one 
 side. As the seed-vessel approaches to maturity 
 the hood falls off", and within is discovered a beau- 
 tifully polished, urn-shaped vessel, either standing 
 erect on the summit of the stem, curved more or 
 less, or quite pendulous. It has its mouth closed 
 with a lid, which, when the seeds ripen, also falls off, 
 and exposes, in most cases, a single or double row of 
 threads, flattened at the base and tapering upwards, 
 which appear to be a continuation of the lining of 
 the seed-vessel. These threads, or " teeth," as they 
 are called, are always of the same number in the 
 same species of Moss, being either 4, 8, 16, 32, or 
 64. They are highly sensitive, altering their posi- 
 tion at every change of weather. During wet 
 weather they lie flat on the mouth of the seed- 
 vessel, and lock into one another in such a way 
 as to prevent a particle of moisture from reaching 
 the seeds. As soon, however, as the air becomes 
 dry, they rise and stand erect, or bend backwards 
 over the outside of the seed-vessel, allowing the 
 seeds, which are so minute as to be wafted away 
 
THE WOOD. 79 
 
 by the lightest breath of air, to escape at a time 
 when they are likely to meet with nothing which 
 can impede their aerial journey. Frequently, 
 when examining a ripe seed-vessel under the mi- 
 croscope, I have observed the fringe of teeth arise 
 and fall, so as to keep exact time with my breath- 
 ing. This Jiygrometric property (or power of in- 
 dicating the presence or absence of moisture) 
 sometimes exists in the stalk which supports the 
 seed-vessel. A remarkable example of this occurs 
 in a Moss which is perhaps one of the most gene- 
 rally diffused plants in the world, growing in 
 almost all climates and situations.* In moist 
 weather its seta (the name given to the stalk of the 
 seed-vessel) is straight ; but, when the air is dry, 
 it curls up to such a degree, that its extremity 
 touches the ground, and the seed-vessel buries 
 itself among the leaves. It is found most abun- 
 dantly on the tops of walls, in fields where ashes 
 have been thrown, or in green-houses, or the earth 
 contained in garden-pots. It is called Funaria 
 hygrometrica; the former name being derived from 
 a Latin word signifying a rope, from the twisted 
 form which it sometimes assumes ; the latter from 
 its hygrometric properties. 
 
 I shall probably have something more to say 
 about Mosses on another occasion ; we will not 
 stop, therefore, to examine them any further at 
 
 E resent, but will hasten into the open country, 
 3r the sun is now shining out with such fervour 
 that we shall soon be able to ramble over the ad- 
 joining heath without wetting our feet. But, 
 before we say adieu to our shelter, I must point 
 
 * Funaria hygrometrica. 
 
80 THE WOOD. 
 
 out to you a few objects which, if we had time, 
 would be well worthy of notice. First, look at 
 this Bramble leaf, which bears a light-coloured 
 mark, as if a little stream had meandered over it. 
 If you have never before been told the cause of 
 this, you will be interested in hearing it, for it 
 affords a remarkable example of that wonderful 
 instinct with which God endues even the smallest 
 of his creatures. A little fly deposits its egg be- 
 tween the upper and under skins of the leaf ; and, 
 when the young caterpillar is hatched, it moves 
 along still between the two skins, feeding upon the 
 substance of the leaf, and carefully turning back 
 when it arrives at the edge, so as never to break 
 the walls of its house. The insect eats more and 
 more in proportion to its growth ; hence the traces 
 of its journey gradually widen, until at last they 
 come to a sudden stop. Here the little devour er 
 undergoes a transformation, being converted into 
 what is called a pupa, or chrysalis, that is to say, 
 having arrived at a stage of its existence when it 
 neither moves nor eats, but is enclosed in a case, 
 and is to all appearance lifeless. After remaining 
 in this state for a time, it becomes a fly, and, having 
 again acquired the power of motion, liberates itself 
 from its hitherto secluded dwelling. 
 
 Look again at the little green ball attached to 
 the under side of this Oak leaf! It is the habita- 
 tion of an insect which spends here a large portion 
 of its existence. And what a miserable existence ! 
 you will perhaps say. To be for a half of its life 
 confined within the limits of a single leaf, without 
 companions, and without the power of moving to 
 another place ! What can be more wretched ? I 
 
THE WOOD. 
 
 81 
 
 will tell you. It is far more miserable to have the 
 power of going whither you will, and of doing what 
 you will, and yet to be discontented. From the 
 paltry insect which has eaten out for itself a dwel- 
 ling-place in a Bramble leaf, and spent the greater 
 part of its existence within the compass of a single 
 square inch, you may learn something worth re- 
 
 BRAMBLE LEAF. 
 
 collecting, to be content with what God has given 
 you, and to do your duty in whatever station you 
 may be placed : 
 
82 THE WOOD. 
 
 To be resigned when ills betide, 
 Patient when favours are denied, 
 
 Content with favours given ; 
 That this indeed is virtue's part, 
 This is that incense of the heart 
 
 Whose fragrance smells to Heaven. 
 
 COTTON. 
 
 The insignificant worm, you may think, who 
 spends his fife enclosed in a Bramble leaf or con- 
 fined within a hollow ball, where he must be insen- 
 sible even to the change produced by the alter- 
 nation of day and night, envies the lark that he 
 hears high above his head, singing his happy songs 
 as he sports in the sunshine. Far from it ; all 
 are equally fulfilling the purpose for which they 
 were created, and therefore all are equally happy, 
 however varied and dissimilar may be their re- 
 spective enjoyments. They feel no wants which 
 they cannot immediately satisfy ; and desires they 
 have none, for their knowledge is bounded by the 
 walls of their prison-house. 
 
 How beautifully the drops of rain hanging 
 about the heads of yonder grass-like plant sparkle 
 in the sunshine ! You might fancy the plant to 
 be studded with diamonds. They are scarcely 
 less brilliant by moonlight, when the drops of 
 dew, suspended on the points of the flowers, 
 might be almost mistaken for glow-worms. It is 
 a species of Wood-rush; but, from its sparkling 
 appearance, has been termed " Glow-worm Grass," 
 or Luciola, which is the Italian name for a glow- 
 worm. 
 
 The little plant springing up in such abundance 
 uncler the trees around us, with shining rough- 
 
THE WOOD. 83 
 
 edged leaves inserted in rings round the stem, is 
 the Sweet-scented Wood-ruff.* It is sometimes 
 called Wood-rowel, its whorl of leaves resembling 
 the rowel of a spur. The name was formerly 
 spelt, 
 
 Double U, double 0, double D, E ; 
 R, O, double U, double F, E. 
 
 It bears a pretty little white flower in April or 
 May, but is more remarkable for the sweet smell 
 that its leaves emit when dry, resembling new hay 
 or the Tonca bean. If you wish to preserve a 
 specimen for your herbarium, you must dry a 
 whole plant ; but, if you want it only for the sake 
 of its odour, the best way of preserving it is to cut 
 through the stem immediately above and below a 
 knot, when you will have about eight leaves ar- 
 ranged in a circular manner and lying quite flat. 
 Place these in a book, and in the course of a 
 day or two you will find that they have acquired 
 a delicious odour, which will last till the fol- 
 lowing year at least. Every spring I place one 
 inside the paper of my watch-case, and it always 
 retains its fragrance till the season comes round 
 again. 
 
 One of our stateliest woodland plants is the 
 " Male Fern," growing most luxuriantly in damp 
 hollows, and sending out numerous tall and graceful 
 fronds, arranged in a circle round the root, droop- 
 ing like feathers, or presenting an outline which 
 reminds us of some beautiful Grecian vase. Its 
 neighbour, the elegant " Lady Fern," is yet more 
 graceful, though inferior in its stately mode of 
 growth. The former has the lower part of its 
 * Asperula odorata. 
 
84 THE WOOD. 
 
 stem copiously clothed with brown shaggy scales ; 
 hence in its young state, when its leaves are curled 
 up and concealed by the stem, it might almost be 
 mistaken for a large hairy caterpillar. The stem of 
 the Lady Fern is green and almost smooth, and its 
 leaves are cut into innumerable divisions, as fine 
 as lace-work. None of the Fern tribe possess 
 organs that can be correctly termed flowers, 
 though they produce seeds in the greatest profu- 
 sion. Examine the back of the leaf, and you will 
 be at no loss to discover where they grow. On 
 the Male Fern you will observe rows of small 
 circular scales covering a vast number of minute 
 brown bodies. Each of these is an orbicular seed- 
 vessel, encircled by an elastic jointed ring, dividing 
 it into two hemispheres. When the included 
 seeds have arrived at maturity, the ring bursts 
 spontaneously and allows the seeds to escape. The 
 latter are so minute as to be invisible to the naked 
 eye, unless there be great numbers of them 
 together. Shake a full-grown frond on a sheet of 
 white paper, and they will make themselves suffi- 
 ciently evident. The seed-vessels of the Lady 
 Fern are arranged like those of the other, on the 
 back of the leaf, but in short dark lines. The 
 fructification is most conspicuous in a Fern called 
 " Polypody," which grows very abundantly on old 
 hedges, about the decaying roots of trees. Its 
 frond is not cut into numerous segments like the 
 two which I have mentioned, but is only once 
 divided. Down each of the divisions of the upper 
 half of the frond run two parallel rows of orange- 
 coloured dots composed of a great number of 
 seed-vessels, which have no scaly covering as the 
 others have, but are furnished each with a stalk of 
 
THE WOOD. 85 
 
 its own, and, when ripe, burst and discharge their 
 seeds by the agency of the elastic ring described 
 above. The " Hart's-tongue Fern " (so called 
 from its shape) differs from all of these in not 
 being divided at all, and having its seeds arranged 
 in long lines on the back of the frond. The 
 " Royal Fern," or " Flowering Fern," grows in 
 bushy places near the water, and sometimes attains 
 the height of six or seven feet. It bears its fruc- 
 tification on the summit of the plant, in masses of 
 a beautiful golden colour, which in this respect 
 resembling a crown, have, I suppose, given the plant 
 its kingly name. 
 
 " My thoughts are feasting by the woodland shade, 
 The rugged pathlet, and the bright cascade, 
 Where the tall Foxglove peeps into the brook, 
 And Royal Ferns adorn each watery nook ; 
 Where Cinquefoil studs the earth with stars of gold, 
 While, from its dwelling by the Violet cold, 
 With laughing eyes, the coy Forget-me-not 
 Bids me not heedless pass the hallowed spot." 
 
 I will only detain you while we examine one 
 object more, and we will continue our walk. 
 Yonder tree bearing such beautiful large leaves is 
 a Plane. It is remarkable for the smoothness of 
 . its bark, which, instead of splitting and so becoming 
 rugged, like the bole of the Oak or the Elm, as its 
 diameter increases, annually falls off, and exposes 
 the newly formed rind unmarked by a single crack. 
 But the leaf, I think, is more worthy of note than 
 the stem. You will observe that its stalk is much 
 swollen at the base, being there as thick as the twig 
 which supports it. Carefully detach it, and you 
 will discover that it is hollow, and encloses a green 
 bud, which remains behind after the leaf has been 
 
86 
 
 THE WOOD. 
 
 removed. The use of the hollow stem is to shelter 
 the young bud during the colds of autumn. But, 
 when the leaf has fallen off, the bud is not left 
 
 STEM AND BUD OF THE PLANE-TREE. 
 
 without protection, for it is enveloped in a tough 
 case lined with a kind of resin which is impenetra- 
 ble to wet : within this is a similar case lined ex- 
 ternally with the same coating ; next come a num- 
 ber of scales covered with a dense coat of brown 
 
THE WOOD. 
 
 87 
 
 fur, which, must serve as an admirable safeguard 
 against cold ; and within all lie the leaves wrapped 
 
 LEAF OF PLANE-TREE. 
 
 up in a mantle of silk, waiting till the succeeding 
 spring shall give them new vigour and enable them 
 to burst all their envelopes. 
 
88 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE HEATH. 
 
 FAIR Morn ascends ; fresh Zephyr's breath 
 Blows liberal o'er yon bloomy heath, 
 Where, sown profusely, herb and flower, 
 Of balmy smell, of healing power, 
 Their souls in fragrant dews exhale, 
 And breathe fresh life in ev'ry gale. 
 Here spreads a green expanse of plains, 
 Where, sweetly pensive, Silence reigns ; 
 And there, at utmost stretch of eye 
 A mountain fades into the sky ; 
 While winding round, diffused and deep, 
 A river rolls with sounding sweep ; 
 Of human art no traces near, 
 I seem alone with Nature here. 
 Oh ! thou most courted, most despised, 
 And but in absence duly prized, 
 These are thy walks, oh, sacred Health ! 
 The monarch's bliss, the beggar's wealth ; 
 The seasoning of all good below, 
 The sovereign friend in joy or woe. 
 
 MALLET. 
 
 HERE we are on the open heath, with nothing 
 interposed between us and the clear blue sky above 
 and around us; the fresh breeze laden with 
 health sweeping by, and carrying away with it all 
 our fears lest our long walk should over-fatigue us, 
 all recollection that our ramble must terminate 
 with the setting sun. 
 
 This is a place where it is indeed a luxury to 
 
THE HEATH. 89 
 
 spend an hour in idleness, to lie down upon the 
 matted heath and moss, and give one's self up to 
 whatever thoughts may arise ; and it is a place, I 
 think, where a well-trained mind could scarcely fix 
 on an unprofitable subject for meditation. Every 
 object within sight, whether animate or otherwise, 
 seems as if no mortal eye had lighted on it since 
 it came from the hands of its Creator ; and hence 
 He appears to be here more indubitably present 
 than elsewhere. 
 
 This cannot be so in reality, for if God were 
 not with us at ah 1 times, and in all places, we could 
 not continue to exist : but yet it can do no harm 
 to think so; rather the contrary, and for this 
 reason, that, if the impression be brought home 
 closely to our minds on one occasion, it may serve 
 to keep alive a perpetual sense of His omnipre- 
 sence. 
 
 I would now wish to draw your attention more 
 particularly to the process by which a wild heath, 
 like this on which we are standing, may in course 
 of time be converted into a flourishing wood, such 
 as that which we have just quitted. 
 
 There was a time, probably, when the stunted 
 vegetation which now surrounds us was wanting ; 
 when even the thin layer of mould, affording it a 
 frugal but sufficient supply of nourishment, was 
 also absent. As far as the eye could reach, ex- 
 tended a plain of barren gravel, unrelieved by any- 
 thing save the rugged head of some time-battered 
 rock. Now, however, widely is the scene changed ! 
 Scarcely a spot can be discovered which is not 
 thickly invested with a matting of heath, furze, 
 grass, and moss, while the bare surface of a rock 
 is to be seen only at wide intervals. Be not too 
 
90 
 
 THE HEATH. 
 
 sure, however, till you have closely inspected the 
 rock, that the surface is bare; for it would be 
 scarcely less strange that the flint-stone should 
 have its parasites than the interior of a grain of 
 wheat. And in fact, rugged and hard as the face 
 of the rock appears, and indeed is, you will scarcely 
 be able to touch a spot where there is not, between 
 the substance of the rock and your hand, a living 
 and flourishing vegetable. Yes, even on the 
 polished surface of flints, plants will grow and 
 spread. I do not say that their roots will pene- 
 trate the rock, but perfect plants will spring up, 
 and ripen their seeds where there is not the 
 minutest particle of earth. Examine the face of 
 this mass of granite, which is composed of crystals 
 of feltspar and quartz (two substances hard 
 enough to scratch glass), with a few scales of mica 
 scattered here and there. On one part of its sur- 
 face you will observe a number of irregularly 
 arranged oblong black spots,* which are dry, and 
 so hard as to be in all appearance a part of the 
 stem itself. In reality they are organized living 
 bodies, which have sprung from seed lodged here 
 by the wind, and contain within them the embryo 
 of numerous other plants, in fact, like the poppy- 
 head or bean-pod, mature seed-vessels. Adjoining 
 these, is an irregularly shaped patch of greenish 
 yellow substance which you will in vain attempt to 
 remove with your knife.f Beautifully traversed 
 as it is with meandering veins, and dark spots 
 resembling the rivers and towns in a map, it is so 
 thin, that you will find it impossible to secure a 
 specimen, unless you can detach a portion of the 
 rock to which it adheres. Close by it grows (for 
 * Opegrapha saxatilis. t Leeidea geographica. 
 
THE HEATH. 91 
 
 this too is a living plant) a rough grey substance,* 
 thickly studded with light-coloured circular disks, 
 having raised borders, not unlike small stemless 
 mushrooms. The plants which I am describing 
 are called Lichens ; and, although many of them 
 are minute, and to a careless observer insignifi- 
 cant, they are, as we shall see by-and-by, of very 
 great importance in the economy of Nature. 
 
 MAP LICHEN. 
 
 These, and a vast number of others, agree in 
 having a rough surface, and in being so intimately 
 attached to the rock as to be practically insepara- 
 ble from it without breaking one or the other. 
 Scattered over the same pile of rocks, you will find 
 others, resembling those described, in being fas- 
 tened to the bare rock without the aid of roots ; 
 but differing in these respects, that their substance 
 is thicker, and that they are not attached by the 
 whole of their under surface, but curl upwards at the 
 extremity. One you will find in great abundance 
 * Lecanora Parella. 
 
92 THE HEATH. 
 
 of a bright orange colour ; another, equally abun- 
 dant, or perhaps more so, is of a beautiful sulphur 
 colour; a third of an ashy grey, traversed by 
 whitish lines; another of a dark olive, &c. &c.* 
 
 CRAB'S EYE LICHEN. 
 
 The rock in fact, if it be not so productive of 
 stately plants as the hedge-bank, or corn-field, is 
 quite as diversified as to colour, and has at least 
 this advantage, that in summer and winter it is 
 always the same ; here is neither fading of flowers, 
 nor shedding of leaves. Now direct your atten- 
 tion to the foot of the rock, especially to that 
 part of it which does not descend perpendicularly 
 into the ground, but slopes gradually to its base. 
 Here you will find several species of Moss, closely 
 
 * These belong to the genus Parmelia. 
 
THE HEATH. 93 
 
 resembling those which we found in the wood, 
 and, mixed with them, several other kinds of 
 Lichen, some of which are like those already de- 
 scribed, others very different. Here, for instance, 
 is one which might almost be mistaken for a tat- 
 tered portion of a kid glove.* Its upper surface 
 is of a dull lead-colour, and underneath it is white, 
 and furnished with numerous tendrils, of the same 
 colour, attaching it to the ground. It bears its 
 fructification at the extremity, in largish buff- 
 coloured spots, somewhat resembling the human 
 nail. Close by this, is a grey tangled mass, of 
 copiously branched vegetable substance, which, if 
 we had picked it up on the sea-shore, you would 
 certainly have pronounced to be coral.f It bears 
 its fructification sparingly, on the summit of the 
 stem, in the form of little globes, which eventually 
 split vertically, and suffer the seeds to escape. 
 Here is another little plant, peeping up through 
 the moss and heath, and beautifully contrasting its 
 wiry white stems with the rich green and brown 
 of the surrounding herbage ; this too is a Lichen, 
 though generally called Rein-deer Moss, about 
 which I shall have something to say by-and-by.J 
 Here, on the horizontal surface of the rock, where 
 a thin layer of mould has been deposited, is a 
 cluster of rough mealy little columns, each of 
 which bears either a funnel-shaped cup, edged 
 with the most brilliant crimson, or a small round 
 mass of the same conspicuous colour. Scarcely 
 anything with which I am acquainted either in 
 nature or art, presents, as to colour, so dazzling an 
 appearance as a large mass of these plants when 
 
 * Peltidea canina. f Sparophoron coralloides. 
 
 ^ Cladonia rangi/erina. Scyphophorus cocciferus. 
 
94 
 
 THE HEATH. 
 
 the sun shines on them after a shower. More 
 brilliant than the brightest coral, and reflecting 
 light from their polished summits, one might 
 imagine them to be gems, cut and set by the hand 
 of Nature, to give a grace to the rugged rock, or 
 the dark mould from which they spring. In com- 
 
 REIN-DEER MOSS. 
 
 mon with the other kinds of Lichen, and the Mosses 
 generally, they will bear exposure to excessive 
 drought, for an indefinite period of time, without 
 materially altering in appearance. A very fine 
 specimen, which I gathered four years ago, is as 
 beautiful as it ever was; and, if restored to its 
 
THE HEATH. 95 
 
 native soil, it would probably continue to vegetate 
 as if it had never been removed. 
 
 But it is time that I should tell you in what way 
 these humble plants serve as instruments in the 
 hand of Providence for converting rocky districts 
 into fertile pastures and woodlands. Their sub- 
 stance is composed entirely of an assemblage of 
 minute cells, which have the power of absorbing 
 moisture, either from the direct application of 
 water to the plant or from the atmosphere, and 
 this power they possess in a high degree and ex- 
 ercise very readily. Examine the side of a rock 
 against which the rain has been beating, and you 
 will find every moss and lichen fresh and flourish- 
 ing. Immediately that the water touched them, 
 they supped in, as it were, as much as they could 
 hold, and distributed it throughout their whole 
 extent; just as a piece of sugar will distribute 
 fluid throughout all its substance, although one 
 extremity only be immersed. Go round to the 
 other side of the rock, which has been sheltered 
 from the wet, and you will find them all to be so 
 dry, that, when you attempt to pluck them, they 
 will break, or even crumble in your hand. Dip 
 any one of them in water, and it will immediately 
 recover its elasticity ; straightening its branches, or 
 expanding its leaves under your very eye. Or 
 you may choose one of the driest, which to all 
 appearance is dead, and place it in a close case 
 among other plants, and, although the latter be 
 not actually wet, it will absorb so much of the 
 moisture which evaporates from them, as to 
 recover in a very short time its most vigorous con- 
 dition. 
 
 Possessing this facility of taking in nourish- 
 
96 THE HEATH. 
 
 ment through their leaves and stems, the mosses 
 and lichens, and especially the latter, have no 
 need of roots, properly so called ; all that they 
 require, is, to be attached to the rock so firmly 
 as to be able to resist the action of the wind, 
 which in exposed places like those in which they 
 grow, is at times very violent. And firmly at- 
 tached they are indeed ; for although you may 
 readily remove a part of a plant from the rock, 
 you will find it a far easier task to detach a por- 
 tion of the rock from the mass, than to separate 
 from it the extremity of the stem. Having then 
 no means for deriving nourishment from the sub- 
 stance on which they grow, and growing on a sub- 
 stance which can afford them none, situated in 
 localities which are exposed to the direct rays of 
 the sun, and the immediate action of the wind, 
 if like most other plants, they could not live with- 
 out the constant presence of moisture, the first 
 week of hot summer weather, or of a dry east 
 wind, would terminate their existence, and the 
 whole tribe not having time to mature their seeds, 
 would perish. Thus we see, that their constitu- 
 tion is such as eminently suits them for growing 
 in places where no other vegetable would live. 
 
 And now as to their utility. Those which 
 appear first in order of time, are the hard thin 
 lichens ; which I first described. Their rough 
 surface arrests, and retains the seeds of the larger 
 kinds lodged on them by the wind. These ger- 
 minate ; and while, during their term of existence, 
 they in like manner arrest the particles of dust 
 which may be brought by the wind, they eventually 
 decay, and afford in their mouldering substance a 
 suitable resting-place for the seeds of grasses, 
 
THE HEATH. 97 
 
 and other small plants. These also spring up, 
 and although there are many which do not arrive 
 at perfection, but wither for lack of moisture 
 before they have attained any considerable size, 
 they fail not to perform the office which they 
 were sent there to fulfil ; their early decay making 
 a speedy addition to the layer of mould from which 
 they originated. By this time the larger creeping 
 mosses have grown up, and execute the double 
 office of sheltering the ground from the rays of 
 the sun, and of conducting moisture through their 
 cellular substance from one part of it to another. 
 By this process a pleasant green turf is speedily 
 formed ; various new kinds of plants spring up, 
 and are matured ; their intermatting roots firmly 
 bind the soil together while they live, and as soon 
 as they die crumble into dust, adding to it a fresh 
 stratum of earth, which is now become fit for the 
 reception of the seeds of larger plants. Thus a 
 regular succession of different forms of vegetable 
 life goes on, from the scarcely perceptible lichen, 
 the humble creeping moss, the annual grass, the 
 tufted herb, the bushy shrub, to the stately oak 
 or pine. This process man assists by clearing 
 away and burning bushes of furze, or heath, 
 adding their ashes to the soil ; and subsequently 
 by ploughing, sowing, and planting ; or he re- 
 tards it by paring off the turf, as soon as it has 
 attained sufficient thickness, and carrying it away 
 for fuel. 
 
 Of the Reindeer Moss, to which I have alluded 
 before, a very interesting description is to be 
 found in " Linnaeus's Flora Lapponica," which I 
 will translate for you. 
 
 " Throughout the whole of Lapland no vegeta- 
 
 H 
 
THE HEATH. 
 
 ble is more abundant than this Cladonia. Sandy 
 or gravelly plains of two or three miles in extent, 
 and sparingly sprinkled here and there with pines, 
 may be seen covered white as snow with this 
 lichen. When a forest has been consumed by 
 lightning, no vegetable for a long period can find 
 sustenance among the ashes, until at length the 
 Reindeer Moss (as it is called) springs up, and in 
 a very few years arrives at perfection. These 
 plains covered with lichen, which a stranger would 
 call an accursed land, are fertile pastures to the 
 Laplander, who, in possession of a tract of such 
 country, esteems himself a prosperous man. The 
 Laplander, rejecting agriculture to which neither 
 soil nor climate are favourable, pursues the pas- 
 toral life of the patriarch, as being much better 
 adapted to his necessities. The Reindeer are 
 his cattle and his flocks ; if they prosper, he pros- 
 pers. To these animals, naturally impatient of 
 heat, an all-wise Creator has allotted the most 
 northerly regions, such as Lapland and Green- 
 land ; but even here He has not failed to make 
 adequate provision for their sustenance. In sum- 
 mer they desert the warm valleys, and seek the 
 confines of perpetual snow, whither their owners 
 attend and watch them. At the approach of 
 winter, both are compelled to descend from these 
 Alpine heights, the former for want of the herb- 
 age which had constituted their food during the 
 warm months, the latter from the severity of the 
 cold. It is during the long and cheerless winter 
 that the Reindeer Moss is appreciated. It is then 
 the principal food of the reindeer, whose sagacity 
 is such that, however deeply the ground may be 
 covered with snow, he is at no loss to discover his 
 
THE HEATH. 99 
 
 favourite food, and not only derives sufficient 
 aliment from this sapless lichen, but even fattens 
 upon it. The herdsman, therefore, has no need 
 to build houses, in which his herds may be stalled 
 during winter, and in summer is equally exempt 
 from the necessity of cutting, saving, and hus- 
 banding his hay." 
 
 In another place the same author says, " The 
 reindeer sometimes suffers great hardships in 
 autumn when the snow happens to have all melt- 
 ed away during summer, and a sudden frost 
 freezes the Mountain Lichen, which is his only 
 winter food. When this fails, the animal has 
 no other resource, for he never touches hay." 
 A calamity of this kind, however, occurs as rarely 
 as a famine in England; for the winter there is 
 almost always ushered in by falls of snow, which 
 being a bad conductor of heat, prevents the 
 warmth of the earth from being dissipated by 
 radiation. How admirably in this case has Pro- 
 vidence adapted the animal and its native country 
 to each other. A cold, bleak district, sheltered 
 but here and there by a few fir trees, and scantily 
 furnished even with grass, Lapland would seem to 
 be " a land to which inhabitants are denied ;" but 
 it is, nevertheless, plentifully stocked with animals 
 belonging to a tribe whose subsistence, in other 
 climates, consists chiefly of herbs that in Lapland 
 are no where to be found in sufficient abundance 
 to constitute an article of food. But, unproduc- 
 tive of grass though it be, it abounds in a vegetable 
 which in other regions is of little value, and rarely 
 attains any considerable size. In this cold climate, 
 however, it grows luxuriantly, and is spread in 
 such profusion over the plains, that it affords a 
 
100 THE HEATH. 
 
 plentiful supply to almost the only animal that 
 can endure the cold. So hardy is the Reindeer 
 Moss, that neither snow nor frost injures it ; but, 
 since the latter would render it so rigid as to pre- 
 vent the animal from browzing on it, the Provi- 
 dence that placed it there has provided a mantle 
 for its protection, a covering of snow, which, while 
 it shelters the plant, is very easily removed by the 
 feet of the deer, who is instructed by an unerring 
 instinct both where to look for its food, and how 
 to obtain it. " These wait all upon thee, that 
 thou mayest give them their meat in due season. 
 That thou givest them they gather. Thou openest 
 thine hand, they are filled with good." 
 
 There is a kind of moss which abounds on 
 exposed heaths and mountains, and is also very 
 serviceable to the Laplander, though of far less 
 importance than the Reindeer Moss.* It is of a 
 dark green colour, and resembles a juniper branch, 
 or the twig of a fir-tree, only very much smaller. 
 When it grows in boggy places it often attains such 
 a size that it may be made into brooms. It bears 
 its seed-vessel on a long, erect and bare stalk, and 
 is surmounted by a brownish cap, composed of 
 matted hair. Linnaeus says of this, " The Lap- 
 landers cut out a surface of this, as large as they 
 please, for a bed, separating it from the earth 
 beneath; and although the shoots are scarcely 
 branched, they nevertheless are so entangled by 
 the roots as not to be separable from each other. 
 This mossy cushion is very soft and elastic, not 
 growing hard by pressure ; and, if a similar por- 
 tion of it be made to serve as a coverlet, nothing 
 
 * Polytrichum commune. 
 
THE HEATH. 101 
 
 can be more warm and comfortable. They fold 
 their bed together, tying it up into a roll that may 
 be grasped by a man's arms, which, if necessary, 
 they carry with them to the place where they 
 mean to sleep the night following. If it becomes 
 too dry and compressed, its former elasticity is 
 restored by a little moisture." 
 
 You have, I dare say, often stopped under a 
 clump of fir-trees, and listened with pleasure to 
 the wind murmuring through the long wiry leaves, 
 and sounding like the roar of the distant sea ; but 
 did you ever form a conjecture as to the reason 
 why the leaves should be so different in form from 
 those of most other trees ? Now, if you look at 
 the stunted shrubs around us, and think of them 
 in connection with the fir-tree, you will soon dis- 
 cover that this peculiar structure was not given 
 without design. 
 
 First, we have two or three different sorts of 
 heath, all of which, besides having very tough 
 roots, are furnished with branches, which, though 
 slight, are so flexible that, by yielding to the 
 blast, they escape uninjured, let the storm rage 
 ever so violently. The leaves are equally well 
 adapted to the sort of place in which the heath 
 flourishes; they are small, very little flattened, 
 and extremely rigid; in consequence of which 
 the wind passes through the bush without either 
 tearing or scattering them. Perhaps you may 
 find a few junipers here and there ; but they, as 
 well as the heath, have leaves so constructed as 
 to offer no resistance to the wind, and on this rely 
 for their safety. The Furze, which is thickly 
 beset with rigid sharp-pointed prickles in place of 
 leaves, upon which the strongest wind can take no 
 
102 THE HEATH. 
 
 effect, is equally secure. The very grass here 
 appears to wear a different character from that 
 under which it appears in the meadows, being 
 tufted and bristly, instead of having long wide 
 leaves. The few flowering plants beside these 
 seem afraid to rise far from the ground, lest they 
 should be injured by the driving wind. They 
 
 mostly seek shelter be- 
 hind bushes and rocks, 
 and only in such situ- 
 ations attain anything 
 like luxuriance. If any 
 overtop the heath and 
 furze, you will find that 
 they are well prepared 
 to stand exposure to 
 the weather. These tall 
 grasses, for instance, 
 will bend to the blast, 
 but will not break. So 
 elastic are their stems, 
 that the tops of them 
 may be bent till they 
 touch the ground, and 
 immediately that they 
 are released they will 
 recover their erect posi- 
 tion. The Harebell, 
 or round-leaved Campa- 
 nula,* frequently over- 
 tops the heath and furze 
 
 * Campanula rotundifolia. This seems a strange name to 
 give to a plant, the leaves of which are nearly all long and 
 narrow ; it is, however, quite appropriate, for in the spring all 
 the root-leaves are round, but very soon wither. Linnaeus, it 
 
 HAREBELL. 
 
THE HEATH. 103 
 
 with its blue, bell-shaped flowers; but, owing to 
 the wiry elasticity of its stem, it may be bowed 
 by the wind to the ground, but not broken. 
 
 Now, the various kinds of pine and larch grow 
 in exposed mountainous situations, where there is 
 nearly always a breeze astir, and very frequently 
 a heavy gale ; but they preserve their foliage safe 
 during the most violent storm; for their leaves, 
 though rigid, are so narrow, that they offer little 
 resistance to the wind, which, as it passes through 
 them, causes the murmuring sound almost always 
 to be heard, in a greater or less degree, in their 
 vicinity. 
 
 It has often struck me, when I have been walk- 
 ing through a wood or park early in spring, so 
 early I mean, that although the leaves of the trees 
 are almost fully expanded, the storms of winter 
 have scarcely ceased, it has often occurred to 
 me, when I have seen a few leaves torn off and 
 driven before me by the unseasonable blast, that, 
 if God were pleased to send the storms of winter 
 at another season, late in spring, for instance, or 
 at midsummer, most of the woods and forests in 
 England would be in a few weeks laid prostrate. 
 If the trees were to put forth their leaves in 
 the winter, the result would be the same ; and 
 even supposing that they escaped this untimely 
 fate, they would be quickly stripped of all their 
 green honours. According to the present harmo- 
 nious arrangement, which He in His wisdom has 
 seen fit to institute, the stormiest seasons are 
 
 is said, gave this name to it, from having observed it early in 
 the season, (when its leaves only make it conspicuous,) grow- 
 ing on the steps leading to his lecture-room in the University 
 of Upsal. 
 
104 THE HEATH. 
 
 those of winter and early spring, when most trees 
 are bare, and the wind finds an easy passage 
 through the naked boughs. The few trees that 
 retain their leaves during this period, such as the 
 box, yew, laurel, laurestinus, &c., (most of which, 
 by the by, are foreigners,) seldom attain a height 
 which renders them liable to be uprooted by the 
 wind, and their stout leathery leaves are well able 
 to withstand every wind that may blow.* If the 
 substance of their leaves resembled that of the 
 elm or oak-leaves, they would soon be torn to 
 pieces or scattered. Another season when we 
 frequently experience stormy weather, is late in 
 autumn; but the leaves have then fulfilled their 
 office, and are so loosely attached to the tree, that 
 they do not at all endanger its safety, but part 
 from their support immediately on being assailed. 
 You will not find many showy flowers here, 
 though Heath and Furze, when in perfection, 
 well merit that title. Of the former plant, there 
 are three very common species, two more grow in 
 Cornwall, and three others in Ireland. The most 
 common in England is the "purple" or "fine-leaved 
 Heath," which may be distinguished by its nume- 
 rous drooping flowers, covering a considerable 
 portion of the stem, and, like the leaves, of a 
 sufficiently strong texture to withstand the force 
 of the most boisterous wind. The flowers will 
 rustle when a bunch is gathered, as if they were 
 perfectly dry. A beautiful species, which prefers 
 a boggy soil, is the cross-leaved heath, well marked 
 by its delicate pink and rather large flowers col- 
 lected into a head at the summit of the stem. 
 
 * The Fir-tree must, of course, be excepted, but upon its 
 wiry leaves the wind, I have said, has no effect. 
 
THE HEATH. 105 
 
 The third species is nearly as abundant as the 
 first. It has small pink flowers, divided into four 
 deep segments, in which particular it differs from 
 all the other species. Properly speaking, it is 
 not a heath at all, but belongs to another genus, 
 Calluna or Ling. It resembles the other species, 
 however, so closely in its general appearance, 
 mode of growth, locality, &c., that it is as fre- 
 quently called by one name as the other. In 
 Scotland it is commonly called " heather," a word 
 which also includes the other common species. 
 Its foliage is more beautiful than that of either 
 of the kinds, resembling chenille. The heaths are 
 all troublesome plants to dry for botanical pur- 
 poses; for after they have been a few days in 
 paper the leaves fall off, a circumstance which is 
 accounted for on the supposition, that the stem 
 retains the vital principle for a long time, and 
 throws off the dead leaves as it would if it were 
 still growing. Most probably this is the case, for 
 if the whole plant be immersed in boiling water 
 before it is put to dry, and thus killed, none of 
 the leaves will fall off. 
 
 Of the Furze we have two species. One of these 
 sometimes attains a height of eight or ten feet ; I 
 recollect, indeed, to have seen one at Carclew, in 
 Cornwall, so high that when I was on horseback 
 I could scarcely reach its top with my cane. This 
 species has large pale yellow flowers, which ap- 
 pear in spring, and convert the bush (at other 
 times so unsightly) into a blaze of gold. 
 
 The hardy Furze, 
 
 In yellow lustre glows, a sea of gold, 
 Teeming with potent fragrance more intense 
 When in unclouded majesty the sun 
 Walks his meridian path." 
 
106 THE HEATH. 
 
 A smaller species, which is frequently con- 
 founded with the other, has fewer and less con- 
 spicuous flowers, and makes a shewy appearance 
 at the same season that the heath blooms, with 
 the purple bells of which it mingles its rich yellow 
 or almost orange-coloured flowers, each enhancing 
 the beauty of its companion. The two kinds may 
 easily be distinguished by examining the flower, 
 at the base of which the dwarf sort has two very 
 minute brownish scales closely pressed to the calyx; 
 the former also has two scales at its base, but 
 larger, and placed at some little distance from it. 
 
 Furze-bushes are frequently rendered conspicu- 
 ous by tangled masses of a very singular plant 
 called Dodder.* It consists entirely of stems 
 and flowers, for being a parasite it has not even 
 roots properly so called. You might at first sight 
 suppose that some animal, clothed with very thick 
 red hair, had been stripped by the prickles of some 
 of its coat, but a closer examination will soon 
 convince you of your error. The plant consists 
 of numberless long red stems, no thicker than 
 packthread, which climb about in all directions, 
 and send out here and there knots of pinkish, 
 wax-like flowers. The old herbalist Gerard, 
 speaking of it, says, " It is a strange herbe, alto- 
 gether without leaves or roote, like unto threads 
 very much snarled, or wrapped together, con- 
 fusedly winding itself about bushes, and hedges, 
 and sundrie kinds of herbes." Threlkeld says, 
 that it is " a nonpareil (a plant like no other) 
 having no leaves, but red threads; and after it 
 has fastened its clasped or small tendrils upon a 
 plant, as line (flax), thyme, nettles, madder, or 
 
 * Cuscuta Epithymum. 
 
THE HEATH. 107 
 
 such like, it quits the root, and, like a coshering* 
 parasite, lives upon another's trencher, and, like 
 an ungrateful guest, first starves, and then kills, 
 its entertainer." Threlkeld is not right in saying 
 that the plant " quits the root," for a little thread 
 issues from the seed as soon as it begins to germi- 
 nate, and immediately sends out shoots which in- 
 sinuate themselves into the stems of the plant 
 they fix themselves in, which they weaken, and 
 sometimes destroy. 
 
 Another parasitic plant is occasionally found 
 attached to the roots of the furze, called " Broom- 
 rape, "-f- It consists of a stout erect stem of a 
 brownish hue, beset with numerous scaly leaves, 
 if leaves they can be called, for they have a dry 
 withered appearance, and are not furnished with 
 stalks. The lower portion of the stem, which is 
 concealed under the ground, is much swoln, and 
 resembles, in some measure, the bulb of a lily, 
 except that its substance is harder, and colour 
 much darker. The upper part of the stem bears 
 numerous largish flowers, of a dirty yellow colour, 
 tinged with brownish purple. There are several 
 species, most of which grow on different plants. 
 The one, for instance, which I have described, 
 prefers the furze, another, the roots of ivy, a third, 
 clover. On the sandy sea-shore of Cornwall one 
 variety chooses the roots of the sea-carrot, and is 
 very abundant in such situations. That which 
 grows on the furze is the largest, frequently at- 
 taining the height of two feet, and overtopping 
 
 * Visits paid by landlords to their tenants in Ireland, when 
 they help themselves liberally to whatever strikes their fancy, 
 are called " coshering visits." 
 
 t Orobanche major. 
 
108 THE HEATH. 
 
 its supporter. Unless carefully sought for, it will 
 probably escape your notice, from its great resem- 
 blance to the withered stem of some plant which 
 has resisted the storms of the preceding winter. 
 
 I must not omit to direct your attention to the 
 " Brake-fern,"* the most abundant of all the plants 
 of that tribe growing in England. This species 
 bears its seeds on the back of the frond, like the 
 others which I have described, but arranged in a 
 continuous line round the edge of the leaflet, and 
 not in scattered dots. If, about the end of May, 
 you pull up a stem, so as to bring with it its dark 
 brown base, and cut through the latter with a 
 sharp knife, held in a sloping direction, you will 
 find that the vessels in the interior are arranged 
 in a very singular way. One side of the stem is 
 indented, so as to form a groove or channel. 
 From this side the section should slope down- 
 wards. Look at it with this side turned towards 
 you, and you will have a tolerably good repre- 
 sentation of a spreading oak; reverse the stem, 
 and the arrangement of the dark vessels resembles 
 a spread eagle. f Early in spring its light green 
 stems present a singular and pleasing appearance. 
 The young plant is delicate and impatient of frost, 
 to which, from its growing in bleak situations, it 
 is much exposed. But the tender leaves are pro- 
 tected in a very extraordinary way; the middle 
 part of the stem is the first which appears above 
 the surface of the ground, the leaves remaining 
 buried for a considerable time, indeed, until the 
 spring frosts are nearly past, or they have gained 
 sufficient strength to stand against them. 
 
 * Pteris aquilina. 
 
 t Hence the name aquilina, from aquila, an eagle. 
 
THE HEATH. 109 
 
 In summer the places where ferns abound are 
 favourite resorts of the deer. 
 
 " The wild buck bells from ferny brake." 
 
 In autumn and winter the bright yellow or red 
 tint which its leaves assume gives a grace to many 
 a landscape, which without it would look cold 
 and cheerless. It is not devoid of useful, as well 
 as ornamental properties ; for besides affording a 
 supply of fuel to the poor, and being used as litter 
 for cattle, it forms a tolerable thatch. In some 
 rural districts on the continent, its ashes serve 
 instead of soap for washing, and some preparation 
 of the plant is used in dressing kid and chamois 
 leather. 
 
 Should you happen to reside in a chalk or lime- 
 stone district, you may fall in with some plants 
 belonging to the genus Ophrys. One of them, 
 called the Bee-ophrys,* or Bee-orchis, produces a 
 flower which when you see it for the first time, 
 you must take for an insect. The Bee-larkspur 
 looks very much like a flower into which some 
 sort of black fly has crept, but the Bee-ophrys is 
 itself the counterpart of an insect that we may see 
 every day throughout the summer flying from 
 flower to flower, the great, black and grey, drone. 
 Here he seems at length to have settled himself, 
 with the intention of giving up for the rest of his 
 days his musical hum, and exchanging his roving 
 habits for a fixed abode. 
 
 Admire, as close the insect lies 
 
 Its thin wrought plume and honeyed thighs ; 
 
 Whilst on this flowret's velvet breast, 
 
 It seems as though 'twere lulled to rest. 
 
 * Ophrys apifera. 
 
110 THE HEATH. 
 
 Now might its fairy wings unfold, 
 
 Enchained in aromatic gold. 
 
 Think not to set the captive free 
 
 'Tis but the picture of a bee. R. SNOW. 
 
 Another species is no less singular, the Fly- 
 ophrys.* The first time I saw this growing, on a 
 common near Bath, I stooped to examine what I 
 thought was a strange looking fly, settled on a 
 stem of grass, and of course, was no less pleased 
 than surprised on discovering my mistake. 
 
 People are very much disposed to ridicule the 
 delight which Botanists experience on detecting a 
 plant which they have never found before ; hut 
 the Botanist is well content to be laughed at, and, 
 to pursue his search. All that he has hitherto 
 discovered has been to him a source of pleasure 
 and of profit, so that when he finds a new subject 
 for examination, he is pleased that a new oppor- 
 tunity of learning something is presented to him. 
 His " new plant " may not be valuable as a me- 
 dicine, nor for any economical purposes ; it may 
 not be ornamental as a garden flower; it may be 
 of no use, as far as he can see, either to man or 
 beast. It must, however, afford him a fresh 
 instance of " the wisdom of God in Creation :" 
 there must be something about it different from 
 any other plant that he has seen. Possibly he 
 may discover organs hitherto unnoticed, proving 
 the skilful design of Him, who called it into 
 being. To deem the search directed to such 
 an object ridiculous, then, does not bespeak either 
 good sense or right feeling. Some unusual, and 
 appropriate construction of organs with which 
 
 * Ophrys musci/'era. 
 
THE HEATH. Ill 
 
 he is acquainted, may present itself, disclosing an 
 abundantly fruitful subject for contemplation, or 
 he may descry some peculiarity, the object and 
 end of which eludes his most diligent scrutiny. 
 Still his inquiry is not unprofitable, for his failure 
 assures him of the infinite inferiority of man to 
 his Maker, and teaches him to be humble-minded 
 and reverent. If he can perceive nothing remark- 
 able beyond general symmetry, (and this at least 
 is perceptible in every vegetable production,) he 
 can yet admire and adore the goodness of God, in 
 clothing the earth with so many and various tokens 
 of His presence. And, finally, if his " new 
 plant " seem inconspicuous, insignificant, and 
 valueless, he may con in every stem, leaf, and 
 flower, the lesson which his Saviour has appointed 
 to be learnt, that if God so protect and nourish 
 an unprofitable weed, much more will He protect 
 man whom He created in His own image. 
 
 No one, I believe, has attempted to assign any 
 reason why the plants which I have described, and 
 many others belonging to the same tribe, should 
 be furnished with flowers resembling insects ; but, 
 if the inquiry is likely to be profitable to me, whe- 
 ther I succeed in my attempt to solve the ques- 
 tion, or whether I fail, surely no one has any right 
 to laugh at me because I feel a pleasure when a 
 new inducement to search is presented to me. I 
 would strongly recommend you, then, not to be 
 deterred from the study of Botany, or of any 
 other branch of Natural History which you are 
 inclined to pursue, by any sly allusions made to 
 persons " who will walk for hours over heaths 
 and bogs searching for useless weeds," or by any 
 questions as to " What is the use of Botany ?" 
 
112 THE HEATH. 
 
 " To what good does it tend?" Be assured, that 
 the desire of inquiring into the things of Nature 
 was implanted in your heart by the God of 
 Nature. Those who ridicule the notion that 
 there can be any pleasure in the study, speak, pro- 
 bably, as they feel. Not understanding in what 
 the pleasure consists, they do not believe that 
 there is any. You may try to convince them of 
 their error if you please, but take care not to be 
 discouraged by their ridicule till you have made a 
 fair trial ; and, when this has been done, I am quite 
 sure that you will stand unshaken, whatever may 
 be said of you, or to you. 
 
 And now that we must quit the pleasant velvet 
 turf skirting the common, and proceed home- 
 wards, I will repeat to you, as we wend our way, 
 a botanical poem by one of the wisest and best 
 men of the day, who, though no professed Bo- 
 tanist, has studied the Philosophy of Nature, in a 
 spirit happily uniting the thoughtfulness of a Sage 
 with the piety of a Christian, the great Poet 
 Wordsworth. 
 
 "POOR ROBIN.* 
 
 " Now when the Primrose makes a splendid show, 
 And Lilies face the March-winds in full blow, 
 And humbler growths, as moved with one desire, 
 Put on, to welcome Spring, their best attire ; 
 Poor Robin is yet flowerless, but how gay, 
 With his red stalks upon this sunny day ! 
 And, as his tuft of leaves he spreads, content 
 With a hard bed, and scanty nourishment, 
 Mix'd with the green, some shine, not lacking power 
 To rival summer's brightest scarlet flower : 
 And flowers they well might seem to passers by, 
 If looked at only with a careless eye ; 
 
 * The small wild Geranium known by that name. 
 
THE HEATH. 113 
 
 Flowers or a richer produce (and it suit 
 
 The season), sprinklings of ripe strawberry fruit. 
 
 But, while a thousand pleasures come unsought, 
 
 Why fix upon his want, or wealth, a thought 1 
 
 Is the string touched, in prelude to a lay 
 
 Of pretty fancies, that would round him play, 
 
 When all the world acknowledged elfin sway ? 
 
 Or does it suit our humour to commend 
 
 Poor Rohin as a sure and crafty friend, 
 
 Whose practice teaches, spite of names, to show 
 
 Bright colours, whether they deceive or no ? 
 
 Nay, we would simply praise the free good will 
 
 With which, though slighted, he on naked hill 
 
 Or in warm valley seeks his part to fill ; 
 
 Cheerful alike, if bare of flowers, as now, 
 
 Or when his tiny gems shall deck his brow ; 
 
 Yet more, we wish that men by men despised, 
 
 And such as lift their foreheads overprized, 
 
 Should sometimes think, whene'er they chance to spy 
 
 This child of Nature's own humility, 
 
 What recompense is kept in store or left 
 
 For all that seem neglected or bereft ; 
 
 With what nice care equivalents are given ; 
 
 How just, how bountiful, the hand of Heaven. " 
 
114 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 The shadow sleeps upon the hill ! 
 In Nature's temple all is still. 
 With rippling stir the leaflets move, 
 Tho' not a gale to wake the grove ; 
 The lake hath caught a silver crest, 
 Tho' not a breath to break its rest. 
 # * * * * 
 
 The Cathedral. 
 
 I HAVE not often enjoyed the gratification of 
 rambling over a Mountain, and cannot therefore 
 pretend to be your guide to all that may be deemed 
 interesting in such a locality. Still, the aspect 
 which a mountainous country presents, as it re- 
 spects vegetation, is so different from anything 
 which we meet with on the plain, that I cannot 
 altogether omit noticing it, however imperfect my 
 description may be. If it happens that you live 
 in a mountainous district, you will no doubt be 
 able to supply much that I have overlooked, and 
 perhaps will take some interest in examining how 
 far my descriptions are correct ; but if, on the con- 
 trary, you have never set foot on the summit of 
 a mountain-ridge, I hope that the following narra- 
 tive of a three days' excursion in the Highlands, 
 may not be unamusing or uninstructive. 
 
 At seven o'clock, on a bright morning in June, 
 18 , accompanied by a friend, who delighted as 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 115 
 
 much as myself in exploring the works of Nature, 
 I started from Glasgow, in one of the small 
 steamers which ply on the Clyde, and sailed down 
 the river to Dunbarton, distant about seventeen 
 miles. I was told that, if I completed my short 
 tour without more than one exposure to soaking 
 rain, I might consider myself very fortunate. In 
 addition, therefore, to my usual botanical appa- 
 ratus, which consisted of a large tin box slung 
 across my back for collecting specimens of plants, 
 a stout knife to answer the double purpose of cut- 
 ting and digging, a stock of blotting-paper and 
 boards for drying, at the close of each day, what- 
 ever plants I might find, I furnished myself with 
 that most unromantic appendage, an umbrella. 
 You may well imagine that I set out in high 
 spirits, anticipating the greatest possible pleasure 
 from seeing new scenery of the grandest and most 
 beautiful description, observing and examining in 
 their native haunts whole tribes of plants, which 
 I had only read of, or seen in a dried state ; and 
 all this in a district made interesting by a thousand 
 associations. I was accompanied, too, by a friend, 
 who, though he was familiar with every spot that 
 we intended to visit, was as anxious to renew his 
 acquaintance with them as I was to commence 
 mine, and was prepared to go wherever he thought 
 I should be most gratified, and to do anything that 
 would give me pleasure. 
 
 About half-past eight we reached Dunbarton, an 
 uninteresting town to hasty visitors such as we 
 were, and immediately took our places in a sort of 
 omnibus for Loch Lomond, on the shores of which 
 we arrived about ten o'clock. I was not prepared 
 for being so speedily on the long wished-for 
 
116 THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 ground. I had thought of it so much, that I could 
 scarcely believe that it was so easily attainable. 
 
 Even now that I am writing, if I close my eyes, 
 and try to recall the scene which lay before me 
 when I descended from the vehicle, it seems more 
 like an ideal picture made up of the most beautiful 
 things that I had read or thought of, than a land- 
 scape which I had actually gazed upon. 
 
 It was a most brilliant morning not a cloud 
 visible not a breath of wind stirring : a narrow 
 arm of the lake stretched in to the spot on which 
 we stood, and appeared to feed a stream or small 
 river which flowed in an opposite direction. The 
 clear water with its glassy surface was fringed by 
 a bright green turf ; at a short distance lay two 
 little steamers (even these appeared picturesque 
 here) waiting to receive passengers ; and beyond 
 all stretched " the everlasting hills," some rising 
 from the very edge of the lake, others shewing 
 their variously shaped crests, above and between, 
 here presenting a bold rugged outline, there a 
 summit as little defined as a mist-wreath. In one 
 or two places a glittering white spot shewed where 
 the snow had drifted to an extraordinary depth in 
 the winter, and where a mass still lay unthawed, 
 though the sun shone warmly enough, as I by-and- 
 by found, even at that elevation. I was not how- 
 ever allowed to admire the magnificent scene 
 before me as leisurely as you may have read my 
 description, for I was quickly summoned to break- 
 fast at the little inn of Balloch, since the steamers 
 were preparing to start in a very few minutes. In 
 less than half-an-hour we had been rowed to one 
 of them, and were proceeding on our voyage. As 
 it is not my object to describe scenery, I will say 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 117 
 
 nothing of the glorious views which burst upon us 
 every time we passed a point of land of the beau- 
 tifully-wooded islands, each a little paradise, be- 
 tween which we threaded our course ; scenes, I may 
 remark, which he who has once beheld, may easily 
 recall to mind in all their native colouring and 
 beauty, but of which no power of description can 
 convey an adequate idea to the mind of another. 
 I will only observe, that I was enraptured with all 
 that I saw, and almost sorry when the steamer 
 dropped us at Rowardennan, situated at the water's 
 edge, immediately under Ben Lomond. 
 
 We had given directions for our luggage to be 
 left at Tarbet, on the other side of the Loch, and 
 that a boat should be in waiting at the foot of Ben 
 Lomond, to convey us across to the same place in 
 the evening. The interval we purposed to devote 
 to ascending the mountain which I have named, 
 and lost no time before we commenced our jour- 
 ney. The early part of our work was not very 
 laborious, the acclivity being easy, and the springy 
 heather giving a vigour to one's step, which is 
 unknown in the streets of a town, or on a dusty 
 road. The day was intensely hot, but, being re- 
 solved to be daunted by nothing, we bent our 
 backs manfully to the work. As we attained some 
 elevation from the lake, our view became extended, 
 and it was, indeed, a feast to rest awhile with a 
 prospect before us such as we then commanded. 
 It was nearly the same that we had seen before ; 
 still there were mountains around us, and above 
 us ; but there was this new feature, that we now 
 looked down upon the lake, and could form a 
 tolerably correct notion of its extent in one direc- 
 tion, and could embrace, at one glance, the group 
 
118 THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 of islands which we thought so beautiful singly 
 as we passed near them. In almost every new 
 spot, too, I observed something characteristic of 
 the sort of country we were traversing; so that 
 our intervals of rest proved no loss of time. 
 
 One of the first plants which excited my atten- 
 tion, was the Globe-ranunculus or Mountain 
 Globe-flower. It is a very common plant in 
 gardens and shrubberies, and as I had only seen it 
 in such situations, it scarcely seemed at home 
 here ; but nevertheless here undoubtedly was its 
 birthplace, for it grew abundantly in places where 
 the hand of man could not have planted it, and 
 where no one would ever think of scattering seeds 
 either for ornament or profit. It grew in the 
 dripping crevices of rocks ; but seemed to thrive 
 best in situations such as those in which we saw it 
 next day, forming large beds in dark shadowy 
 nooks by the lake-side. 
 
 I have before drawn your attention to the won- 
 derful care exhibited by Providence in rearing an 
 unfailing supply of grass in the lowland meadows 
 and plains. Another, and a still more extraordi- 
 nary instance of Divine Wisdom, in designing and 
 executing, came within our notice to-day. The 
 grasses which are most abundant on exposed heaths 
 are, as I have already hinted, furnished with fine 
 long leaves, and elastic stems, little liable to be 
 torn by the tempestuous winds, to which they are 
 peculiarly liable. Both leaves and roots are, in 
 such situations, densely tufted: consequently the 
 former shelter the ground from the scorching rays 
 of the sun, and prevent it from becoming parched ; 
 while the latter, being thickly matted and distri- 
 buted through a large extent of soil, have ample 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 119 
 
 means of absorbing whatever moisture is contained 
 in the ground, which must, of necessity, at some 
 seasons of the year, be very inconsiderable. Dry, 
 however, though the ground may be, a sufficient 
 quantity of nourishment is always procured to 
 ripen the seeds; hence, if the plant should die, 
 provision is made to supply its place. Of the 
 various kinds which grow in such situations the 
 commonest and most valuable is the " Sheep's* 
 Fescue-grass," so called from its affording those 
 animals an abundant supply of food. The same 
 grass is very common on the sides of mountains ; 
 but in such localities it is more liable to be injured 
 by excess of moisture than by drought. Autumn 
 here is more frequently the season of mists and 
 rain, than of scorching sunny weather ; consequently 
 the same condition of growth would not conduce 
 to the same end, under circumstances so very dif- 
 ferent. Plentiful supplies of water would ensure 
 the support of the matured plants, but would pre- 
 vent the ripening of the seed. Now, mark the wise 
 arrangement by which this difficulty is obviated. 
 In the spring there arises from the centre of the 
 tuft a stalk, bearing a number of buds, and exter- 
 nally resembling the flower-stalk of the lowland 
 grass. As it enlarges, however, instead of deve- 
 loping the rudiments of seeds, it sends out little 
 buds of leaves, shaped precisely like the root- 
 leaves. During the summer these increase in 
 size, and from their base descend small thread-like 
 roots. Towards the commencement of the rainy 
 season, or when it has fully arrived, they fall off, 
 fix themselves in the ground, wherever they may 
 
 * Festuca ovina. Festuca, or Fescue, is supposed to be derived 
 from the Saxon word Fest, signifying " food," " nourishment." 
 
120 THE MOUNTAIN, 
 
 VIVIPAROUS FESCUE-GRASS. 
 
 chance to be blown or washed, and by the return 
 of spring have become flourishing plants. One 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 or two other species of Grass are liable to the same 
 alteration in the mode of propagation; and a 
 somewhat similar phenomenon is occasionally observ- 
 able in the plains. Grains of Wheat and Barley, 
 for instance, when suffered to stand in the field 
 during a rainy autumn, frequently sprout while 
 they remain attached to the stem ; but in this case 
 the seed is matured before it germinates ; whereas, 
 in the other, the young plants are produced on the 
 parent plant without the intervention of seeds. 
 
 As we ascended, some new variety in the scenery 
 was continually presenting itself. Now the moun- 
 tains on the opposite side of the lake under- 
 went a change in their appearance, arising, either 
 from our viewing them in a new aspect, or from 
 some alteration of light and shadow. Now the 
 lake itself was the prominent feature in the pic- 
 ture, and appeared to be nearer, in proportion as 
 we mounted higher then we were high enough 
 to discover many more islands, which had been 
 before hidden from our sight by others between 
 us and them then some bold rugged rock sloped 
 down by our side, and intercepting half the pro- 
 spect, made the rest seem ten times more lovely. 
 A bed of beautiful Alpine flowers would then 
 engage our attention. These afforded me grati- 
 fication, not only because they were beautiful, but 
 also on account of their novelty. I had to exa- 
 mine in what respects they differed generally from 
 those with which I had been familiarly acquainted 
 on the plains, as well as to observe and note the 
 peculiarities of each. One of the most striking 
 was the Alpine Catchfly.* It grew in matted beds 
 thickly studded with large pink or rose-coloured 
 
 * Silene alpina. 
 
122 
 
 THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 flowers, which were scarcely raised above the 
 ground, and so far exceeded in size the leaves and 
 stems as to appear the principal part of the plant. 
 
 There cleaving to the ground it lies, 
 With multitude of purple eyes, 
 Spangling a cushion green like moss. 
 
 WORDSWORTH. 
 
 ALPINE RUE. 
 
 One of the Saxifrages (of which we found but a 
 few patches,* the plants being generally past flower- 
 
 * Saxifraga oppositifolia. 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 123 
 
 ing) resembled the Catchfly, both in colour and 
 mode of growth. Both of these lost their beauty 
 in drying, but another graceful little plant retained 
 its elegant form after it had been pressed. This 
 was the Alpine Rue,* which grew abundantly 
 in damp places on the hill-side. A small species of 
 Willow-)- interested me much, as being the least 
 of known British trees. Fur- 
 nished with root, trunk, 
 branches, buds, leaves, and 
 flowers, it rarely exceeded 
 three inches in height. (The 
 adjoining wood-cut is from a 
 drawing of the natural size.) 
 A species of moss, J of which 
 the pleasant turf under foot 
 was in a great measure com- 
 
 ALPINE HAIR MOSS. 
 
 HERBACEOUS WILLOW. 
 
 * Thalictrum alpinum. f Salix herbacea. 
 
 J Polytrichum alpinum. 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 posed, everywhere over-topped it. Were I sim- 
 ply to assert, that, in some parts of Scotland, 
 the moss grows so tall as to rise considerably 
 above the highest branches of the trees, I should 
 scarcely be believed ; but you will see, by looking 
 at the drawings of each, that my statement is 
 quite correct. 
 
 The day was pretty far advanced when we 
 reached the summit of the mountain ; but if our 
 ascent had been much more toilsome than it was, 
 and if, besides this, the interesting objects, which 
 at every step arrested our attention, had been en- 
 tirely wanting, it would have been well worth all 
 the labour to enjoy "at the end " such a feast for 
 the eyes as was then spread before us. To throw 
 ourselves at length on the grass at the summit, and 
 to assure ourselves that what we beheld was a real 
 scene, was the employment of the first few minutes. 
 To recollect that we were very hungry, and had 
 a sandwich in our pockets, was the next; and 
 never did I partake of so dainty a repast, for, 
 humble as was the fare, it seemed to have im- 
 bibed some new and exalted flavour from the 
 enchanting scenery by which we were surrounded. 
 The every-day work of satisfying the appetite 
 seemed to assure me that I really was not that 
 I fancied myself to be on the summit of a 
 mountain, an,d that the view around me com- 
 prised hills and valleys, which did not merely 
 exist in my imagination, but might actually be 
 traversed. The weather was still very fine clouds 
 were constantly passing, but far above us (high as 
 we were), and incessantly varying the shadows 
 thrown on the vast landscape beneath us not a 
 breath of wind was stirring. Loch Lomond lay 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 perfectly calm and tranquil 3,200 feet below our 
 resting-place. Loch Katrine and Loch Sloy were 
 perfectly visible in the distance; and, all around, 
 the everlasting hills slumbered on, apparently in 
 the same tranquil repose which they had main- 
 tained from the moment when first they were 
 moulded by their Almighty Creator. 
 
 By the time that we began to descend, the glare 
 of day had been mellowed into a bright, clear light, 
 which gave a distinctness to the landscape not 
 hitherto observed ; and in the mirror of the lake 
 the image of every island and headland was re- 
 flected with the distinctness of the original. 
 
 The descent was not altogether so easy as I ex- 
 pected. We made for the point directly opposite 
 to the inn where we intended to pass the night, 
 and after a good deal of scrambling among rocks, 
 running down steep places, impelled sometimes at 
 a rate faster than we could have wished, and cross- 
 ing boggy flats, we reached the Loch-side late in 
 the evening, and were rowed across by two stout 
 Highlanders. 
 
 Early next morning we indulged in a swim in 
 the lake ; and after breakfast, as we expected to 
 have plenty of walking during the day, hired a 
 one-horsed vehicle, which conveyed us and a 
 boy, whom we engaged to carry our basket, to 
 the foot of Ben Yoirlich, situated not far from the 
 head of the lake, but on the opposite side to Ben 
 Lomond. 
 
 We were again highly favoured as to weather, 
 and as determined to enjoy ourselves as we had 
 been the day before. Our route lay along the 
 side of the lake, by a winding road, which every 
 few minutes supplied a new foreground to scenery, 
 
126 THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 which, although of the same general character, 
 varied greatly in its details. At times we had 
 before us a broad expanse of water, fringed to the 
 edge with green turf; then we lost sight of the 
 lake entirely, having a thick wood on our right; 
 and on the left, sometimes a valley running far 
 away among the hills, then a deep mass of foliage, 
 and now an escarpment of rocks, richly coloured 
 with many flowering plants and mosses. Among 
 the latter, one of the most beautiful was the 
 Alpine Thread-moss,* the tufts of which resemble 
 cushions of the most brilliant purple velvet. The 
 season for the flowering of the Hawthorn had end- 
 ed in the plains, but here every tree was in full 
 bloom. 
 
 " Soft spring had burst its buds, and summer now 
 Deckt with sweet garniture each Hawthorn bough. 
 Hung high in air the Birch in tassell'd pride, 
 Clasping with tangled roots the rock's grey side." 
 
 Among the plants which we found to-day, not 
 the least curious were two mosses, the Splachnum 
 mnioides, and sphcericum, producing seed most 
 abundantly. They choose to grow on the mould- 
 ering remains of animal substance, and only in 
 mountainous districts. A piece of leather or 
 bone, or any similar substance, will, in these high 
 regions, if other circumstances are favourable, be 
 quickly covered by one of these mosses. The 
 specimens which we found were growing on the 
 decaying bones of a sheep. We have here an 
 evidence of the wonderful extent to which the air 
 is charged with the minute seeds of the mosses. 
 
 * Bryum alpinum. 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 127 
 
 SPLACHNUM MNIOIDES. 
 
 We need not suppose that the peculiar soil pos- 
 sesses the power of attracting such seeds, but 
 rather that they float about in infinite numbers, 
 and are deposited in situations of all kinds, coming 
 to maturity only in those which are adapted to 
 their growth. Another instance is to be observed 
 in a moss which I have mentioned before, as 
 possessing remarkable hygrometric properties.* 
 This, though anything but uncommon in most 
 situations, shows a decided preference for places 
 in which peat or charcoal has been burnt. I have 
 seen a circular spot in a wood, the soil of which 
 was entirely composed of the dust of charred 
 wood, covered with this moss, though not an atom 
 was to be seen anywhere else in the neighbour- 
 hood. You may probably have observed in hot- 
 houses, in which ferns are cultivated, that when- 
 ever the smallest portion of earth is exposed to 
 the air and light, and has been left undisturbed 
 
 * Funaria hygrometrica. 
 
128 THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 for a considerable time, one or two species of fern 
 spring up in profusion; nay, sometimes even the 
 interstices between the bricks in the wall are 
 fringed with them; while, of all the other kinds 
 cultivated, not a single young plant is to be seen. 
 In both these cases it is evident, that, however 
 many sorts of seeds were deposited, those only 
 germinated, to the growth of which the situation 
 was peculiarly adapted. Had it been different in 
 either case, in all probability some other kind 
 would have appeared. 
 
 Springing from the clefts of rocks, we found a 
 plant with bluish-green foliage and yellow flow- 
 ers, resembling in its habit some of the large kinds 
 of Stone-crop. This was the Rose-root,* so called 
 from the peculiar odour which the fresh root 
 emits, resembling that of the flower after which it 
 is called. The resemblance is certainly striking, 
 but approaches nearer to the smell of rose-water 
 than of the fresh flower. 
 
 In similar situations, but generally in the vi- 
 cinity of water, we found the Mountain-sorrel')" 
 in great abundance. Its leaves are nearly circular, 
 large and thick ; and, being plentifully furnished 
 with an agreeable acid juice, we gathered a con- 
 siderable quantity as a substitute for salad, which 
 we added to our repast when we reached the sum- 
 mit of the mountain. 
 
 While we were exploring a cavity under a pile 
 of rocks, my companion exclaimed that he heard 
 the bark (as it is called) of an eagle. I had heard 
 the noise to which he alluded, but it sounded to my 
 inexperienced ear like the croak of a raven. The 
 
 * Rhodiola rosea. t Oxyria remformis. 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 boy, however, gave it as his opinion that we had 
 heard the distant note of the nobler bird; and 
 presently, to my great gratification, a pair of these 
 lords of the feathered creation rose from behind a 
 mountain-peak, at the distance of about a quarter 
 of a mile from us. They soared about for a long 
 time, occasionally uttering their short and very 
 peculiar cry, and alighting among the rocks, but 
 never came near enough to allow us to have a good 
 view of them. 
 
 The summits of lofty mountains are covered 
 with snow all the year round. In all elevated 
 lands, also, the temperature is much beneath that 
 of the adjoining low countries. This difference is 
 partly owing to the constant exposure of the 
 former to cold winds, from which the plains are 
 more or less protected ; but chiefly to what is 
 called the " radiation of heat." I ought, perhaps, 
 to explain what I mean by these words. 
 
 All bodies, whatever their temperature may be, 
 that is to say, whether we should call them 
 warm or cold, have a natural tendency to part 
 with their heat, which, in conformity with this 
 law, is constantly proceeding from all parts of their 
 surface, and in all directions, in straight lines. 
 For example, if we were to suspend a mass of hot 
 iron in the centre of a room, it would gradually 
 cool ; that is, it would radiate its heat in all direc- 
 tions, until the floor, the ceiling, and the sides of 
 the room had all attained the same temperature 
 with itself. The various parts of the room would 
 also radiate heat at the same time, though in so 
 small a proportion to that received from the iron 
 that it would be scarcely perceptible. 
 
130 THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 This property, I have said, is common to all 
 bodies. But it is evident that the greater the 
 bulk of a body when compared to the surface 
 which it presents, the less heat it radiates, or, in 
 other words, the longer it takes to cool. For in- 
 stance, a spherical mass of iron will retain its heat 
 longer than the same quantity of metal would if 
 beaten out into a thin plate; so, an irregular 
 body, a cinder, for instance, taken from the fire 
 cools first at the extremities or projecting points ; 
 and again, to adduce an example, which I dare 
 say will make you smile, if you go into the open 
 air in a cold day, the parts of your face which 
 suffer most from the cold will be your nose and 
 your chin. Now, mountains are to the mass of 
 the earth what your nose and your chin are to 
 your face. They radiate the heat which they 
 have received from the sun long before the parts 
 which are nearer to the centre of the globe, and 
 become so cold that snow falling on them does not 
 thaw, but remains without diminution from year 
 to year. A thermometer suspended only a few 
 feet from the earth's surface indicates a tempera- 
 ture sensibly lower than it would if placed on the 
 ground ; because, in the latter case, it receives heat 
 from the earth by radiation in a greater degree 
 than when placed at a distance from it. 
 
 Another exemplification of the same law is af- 
 forded by the phenomenon of Dew. Walk through 
 a meadow early in the morning in winter after a 
 clear night, and you will see every blade of grass 
 fringed with sparkling crystals of hoar-frost, while 
 the pathway is not in the least affected. Take the 
 same walk on a summer's morning, and, if the sky 
 has been cloudless during the night, every leaf, 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 131 
 
 twig, arid stem will be laden with refreshing dew, 
 the bare ground being everywhere perfectly dry. 
 How does this come to pass ? It is undoubtedly 
 most desirable that the genial moisture should de- 
 scend on the thirsting herbs rather than on the 
 unproductive pathway, especially in the summer ; 
 but by what agency is this end effected ? Simply 
 by the Providential Law to which I have alluded. 
 The blades of grass radiate their heat, while the 
 ground itself remains comparatively warm. The 
 moisture floating in the atmosphere is condensed 
 on them ; it is received through the open pores 
 into their substance ; it supplies them with abun- 
 dant nourishment, parched as they are with the 
 fervent rays of the preceding day's sun ; while the 
 barren ground receives not a drop of the refresh- 
 ing shower, for here it would be expended in 
 vain. 
 
 I was never more forcibly struck with this wise 
 provision for supplying the wants of the vegetable 
 world than on one occasion when I happened at 
 night to pass by one of the parks in London. 
 The season was spring ; there had been no rain for 
 many days, so that the roads were everywhere 
 thickly laid with dust. Notwithstanding this, as I 
 passed under the branches of a tree, I found that 
 from the point of every twig was suspended a 
 large drop of water, and that the ground under- 
 neath was saturated with moisture. A few mo- 
 ments' reflection was sufficient to explain the 
 truth. The cold branches arrested and condensed 
 the minute particles of water, as they floated by 
 in a mist so dense that I could not see many yards 
 before me, and from this source the swelling bud 
 was plentifully supplied with the nourishment 
 
132 THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 which, at this season, it so much needed. What 
 a commentary have we here on the passage, 
 " There went up a mist from the earth, and 
 watered the whole face of the ground ! " 
 
 In a kind of ravine, or rather hollow, among 
 the rocks, not very far from the mountain's top, 
 we fell in with a large mass of snow, the appear- 
 ance of which was most strange under such a 
 scorching sun as that to which we were then ex- 
 posed. It was not soft and opaque snow, such 
 as we generally find lying on the ground in the 
 winter ; but was composed of large, hard, and 
 clear crystals, resembling hail. Its surface ex- 
 tended over many square yards, and it seemed 
 in some places to be from ten to twenty feet deep. 
 The foliage of the small plants in the immediate 
 neighbourhood, which, to all appearance, had but 
 recently been uncovered, had, as might be ex- 
 pected, suffered much from their protracted ex- 
 posure to wet and cold, and from the absence of 
 light; but their vital powers were evidently not 
 in the least impaired. This was remarkably ex- 
 emplified in a species of Moss * which grew abun- 
 dantly on the very verge of the snow, and, to all 
 appearance, had only been a few days uncovered. 
 The leaves investing the lower portion of the stem 
 were nipped, and of a dingy, blackish-green hue ; 
 but every stem was surmounted by a vigorous 
 bright shoot, which seemed to make up for the time 
 lost under its cold envelope by the rapidity of its 
 
 frowth now that it was restored to heat and light, 
 could readily believe the statements made by 
 travellers of the amazingly short time w T hich 
 elapses in Northern regions between the thawing 
 
 * Bartramiajbntana. 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 133 
 
 of the wintry covering of the earth, and the con- 
 version of cheerless plains into flourishing pastures 
 and corn-fields. 
 
 One can scarcely help observing here the strong 
 analogy which exists between animal and vege- 
 table life ; an analogy made sufficiently evident by 
 comparing the habits of each, on various occasions, 
 but more particularly so in the present instance. 
 In the more temperate regions of the globe, the 
 appearance assumed by almost all plants during 
 the summer months presents a very striking con- 
 trast to their state during winter. They either 
 perish entirely at the first approach of cold, or die 
 down to the ground, retaining the living principle 
 in the roots only. In this latter case respiration 
 ceases ; the transmission of sap is almost, if not 
 quite, suspended, the plants themselves suffering 
 no injury. In some cases they shed their leaves, 
 flowers, and fruits, the trunk and branches re- 
 maining in a state of sluggish inactivity, till the 
 returning heat of summer, or that produced by 
 artificial means, shall have called them to renewed 
 action ; or, like the Northern and Alpine plants, 
 they remain buried beneath the snow, unaltered 
 in appearance, and awaiting only the return of 
 genial weather to burst into life with redoubled 
 activity. 
 
 Just so is it in the animal world. The quick- 
 ly growing, and quickly perishing, Mushroom is 
 equally the child of a day with the May-fly, 
 which in the morning dances along the surface of 
 the stream, in the evening finds a grave in the 
 same element. The butterfly, beneath the en- 
 livening influence of a summer's sun, sports its 
 few weeks, or perhaps months, fulfils all the 
 
134 THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 offices for which it was created, and, like the 
 annual herb, is seen no more. The bat, the mar- 
 mot, and the dormouse, at the first approach of 
 winter, desist from their ordinary habits, cease 
 to hunt after their prey or to evince any necessity 
 for food, retire to the haunts best adapted to their 
 nature, and from whence they may most easily 
 emerge on the return of spring. In this retire- 
 ment they suffer a great diminution of tempe- 
 rature, they breathe slowly, and only at intervals, 
 proportioned to the depth of their slumber, some- 
 times with long periods of total intermission, 
 the circulation of their blood becomes languid to 
 such an extent, that even the pulsation of the heart 
 is scarcely felt, the animal irritability decreases, 
 so that limbs may be lopped off, and even the 
 vital parts laid open, almost without exciting any 
 symptoms of feeling. The action of the digestive 
 organs is suspended, the body becomes gradually 
 emaciated and diminished in weight; and all this 
 takes place without in the least degree impairing 
 the living principle, which, on the contrary, is 
 found to be in a remarkably active and energetic 
 state at the period of revival. Others, whom 
 nature has not directed to retreat before the 
 wintry cold, as the sheep and the goat, and very 
 many of the feathered tribe, oppose as bold a 
 front as possible to the inclemency of the season, 
 and assume an additional covering of wool, hair, 
 or feathers, just as the forest-tree withdraws, as 
 it were, within its rugged bark all the more deli- 
 cate parts, which, if suffered to remain, would be 
 scattered by the fury of the wind, or nipped by 
 the frost. Within the tropics, w r here summer and 
 winter are scarcely distinguished, except by the 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 135 
 
 astronomer, no such simultaneous shedding of 
 leaves takes place. The tree is constantly part- 
 ing with a portion of its leaves, and as constantly 
 repairing its loss, so that no phenomenon takes 
 place similar to that which we call the fall of the 
 leaf. Quite analogous to this is the moulting of 
 birds, which are constantly casting off their old 
 plumage and assuming new; so that, like ever- 
 greens, and the palms of the tropics, they always 
 present nearly the same appearance. 
 
 I cannot pursue this subject farther at present, 
 interesting though it is, but will remark merely, 
 that in climates which are subject to very long 
 droughts, during which no plants can derive any 
 nourishment from the ground, the roots of such 
 as are not supported by the air only choose this as 
 their season for resting. They shut up all their 
 pores, so as to lose none of their stock of moisture 
 by evaporation, and remain, perhaps for a very 
 long time, buried in the driest sand, or imbedded 
 in a hardened mass of the closest clay, but, on the 
 return of the rainy season, spring suddenly into 
 life and verdure. But it is time for me to return 
 to my subject. 
 
 Just below the summit of the mountain, we 
 came upon a small lake or tarne, round the shores 
 of which we found a variety of mosses, but very 
 few flowering plants none indeed which could 
 be considered rare. The season for Alpine plants 
 had scarcely yet arrived ; for my companion, who 
 visited the same spot about two months after- 
 wards, found growing in the greatest abundance 
 many plants of which we now saw no signs. 
 
 The last part of our ascent was performed very 
 quickly, for the recollection of the prospect which 
 
136 THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 we had enjoyed from the top of Ben Lomond the 
 day before made us anxious to survey, as soon as 
 possible, the scenery which we knew awaited us 
 when we reached our destination. We found a 
 delightful resting-place when we had gained the 
 summit. The mountain does not terminate in a 
 single peak, but in two tops of nearly equal eleva- 
 tion, connected by a level surface, composed prin- 
 cipally of long soft moss, intermixed with a few 
 kinds of grass and lichen. Here we stretched at 
 length, and while we ate our repast, consisting of 
 sandwiches and mountain-sorrel, contemplated a 
 prospect which I will endeavour to describe. 
 
 Just opposite, and apparently near enough to be 
 touched, rose piles of mountains of every variety 
 of tint and shadow, from the white snow, which 
 lay in patches near their summits, to the darkest 
 of all possible greys. As far as the eye could 
 reach, they towered up, tier behind tier, till they 
 were lost in the hazy distance. About midway 
 between us and the horizon we descried a small 
 portion of the Clyde ; two thousand feet beneath 
 us lay a mountain tame, Loch Sloy, fed by two 
 little rivers, which, being in a line between us and 
 the sun, looked like threads of burnished silver. 
 Beneath us, on the left, rose another summit of 
 Ben Voirlich, shutting out from our sight a part 
 of Loch Lomond, but allowing us a full view of 
 
 . . . " All the fairy crowds 
 Of islands, which together lie 
 As quietly as spots of sky 
 Among the evening clouds." 
 
 To the right appeared another shoulder of Ben 
 Voirlich, nearly equal in height with our position, 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 137 
 
 and forming a beautiful fore-ground to the land- 
 scape in that direction. Behind, and 3,000 feet 
 beneath us, reposed the deeper part of Loch 
 Lomond, the waters of which wore a hue as 
 black as ink. A little way down lay the tarne 
 which we had just skirted, and here and there 
 were visible huge masses of snow, destined appa- 
 rently to retain their places until winter came 
 again. Not a sound was to be heard, but the oc- 
 casional bleat of a sheep, or the bark of an eagle ; 
 we might have imagined that every portion of the 
 scene around us was unseen by any eye save our 
 own, and that of Him who created it. The recol- 
 lection, however, that the base of the mountain 
 was seven miles from our inn, that the day was 
 wearing, and that we had no vehicle awaiting us 
 when we should reach the road, at length roused us 
 from our resting-place ; and, invigorated with enjoy- 
 ment, we commenced our descent in the direction of 
 Loch Sloy, this side of the mountain being the 
 nearest to our destination. Few tourists take the 
 trouble to climb Ben Voirlich ; and the boy who 
 accompanied us, being neither a lover of the pic- 
 turesque nor a botanist, was as much a stranger to 
 the ground which we were to traverse as ourselves, 
 and was utterly inefficient as a guide. Hence it 
 happened that, when we were within two or three 
 hundred feet of what we believed to be the base 
 of the mountain, we found ourselves at the verge 
 of a precipice, along the edge of which we were 
 obliged to scramble for nearly a mile, and in a 
 direction opposite to that in which we had hitherto 
 been proceeding. We were, however, rewarded 
 by meeting with a spring of deliciously cold 
 water, lined by a mass of yellow Mountain 
 
138 THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 Saxifrage,* which (this being the sunny side of 
 the mountain) was in full bloom, and, with its 
 large flowers beautifully spotted with orange, was 
 well worth the trouble of visiting in its native 
 haunts. 
 
 After reaching the shores of Loch Sloy, little 
 occurred worthy of note during the remainder of 
 our inarch. We had a long scrambling walk by a 
 foot-path, which was every now and then lost in 
 the dry channel of a mountain stream, or the yet 
 more uncomfortable footing afforded by a morass. 
 The sun had long set when we arrived at the main 
 road ; and the heat being moderated, and our 
 path level and easy, we could contemplate at 
 our leisure the deepening shadows of the moun- 
 tains, and the altered appearance of the Loch, 
 which, when we passed by the same road some 
 hours before, was resplendent with the blaze of 
 morning. We reached Tarbet at ten o'clock, and 
 after a hearty tea, which at the end of such a day's 
 joumey was not very likely to interfere with our 
 night's rest, sought in repose a preparation for our 
 next day's excursion. 
 
 Next morning, between eleven and twelve o'clock, 
 we embarked on board the " Loch Lomond" 
 steamer, and were taken to the head of the lake. 
 There we landed a few passengers and returned to 
 Inversnaid, where there is a picturesque mill and 
 waterfall.-)- This romantic spot, independently of 
 its natural beauties, is rendered interesting from 
 having in its neighbourhood the cave to which the 
 notorious freebooter, Rob Roy, used to retire when 
 too hotly pressed by his pursuers. Nearly oppo- 
 
 * Saxifraga aizoides. t See frontispiece. 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 139 
 
 site Inversnaid we passed a beautiful islet thickly 
 planted with larches. The noise of the steamer 
 had disturbed a number of herons, who were 
 amusing themselves near the shore. As we came 
 near, they rose majestically, and fanned themselves 
 to the trees on the island, some of them alighting 
 on the topmost boughs, whence they leisurely con- 
 templated the little vessel as it shot away. The 
 water here wore an exceedingly dark hue, even 
 when we were only a few feet above the surface. 
 This I suppose is attributable partly to the pecu- 
 liar tint which prevails in all mountain waters, 
 partly to its depth, here very great, and partly 
 to its being overshadowed by lofty mountains. 
 The prospect was very grand. Every object on 
 which the eye rested, excited some pleasurable 
 emotion, mingled with a feeling of thankfulness 
 and adoration towards the beneficent Creator, 
 Who had surrounded us with so many lovely and 
 magnificent symbols of His goodness and majesty. 
 The deep and placid lake, the brilliant foliage 
 skirting its shore, the white masses of hawthorn 
 blossoms, " the tops of the ragged rocks," the 
 occasional sheets of snow, affording even in mid- 
 summer a cool and refreshing beverage to the 
 flourishing vegetable productions beneath, the 
 mountains soaring to heaven formed, indeed, a 
 rare combination of beauty and sublimity ; nor was 
 it difficult to imagine, that, from every portion of 
 the goodly scene, the silent incense of adoration 
 was ascending to the Divine Author of all. " Earth 
 with her thousand voices praises God." 
 
 At Inversnaid we landed, with several other 
 passengers, who like ourselves intended to visit 
 Loch Katrine, the scene of Scott's poem of the 
 
140 THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 Lady of the Lake. The distance is about five miles, 
 and as the former part of the way road it can 
 scarcely be called is very steep, and the weather was 
 oppressively hot, the Highlanders, who during the 
 summer months gain a livelihood by lending ponies 
 to travellers, could scarcely be persuaded that it was 
 our intention to walk. In vain we protested that 
 we purposed to use our own legs. It was contrary 
 to all precedent to allow our luggage to be trans- 
 ported on the backs of beasts, unless we ourselves 
 adopted the same mode of transit. Consequently 
 we were compelled to pay as much for the convey- 
 ance of our portmanteaus, &c., as if we had hired 
 ponies. I was not a little amused at the pertina- 
 city of two of these horse-proprietors, who, until 
 we had gained the brow of the hill, (which, to confess 
 the truth, was rather toilsome work,) rode close by 
 our sides, as if to display the superior comfort with 
 which they proceeded reminding us ever and anon 
 of the steepness of the ascent, and the excessive 
 heat of the weather, evidently hoping that we 
 should soon "give in" and accept the accommoda- 
 tion of their ponies, which, as their companions, 
 they said, were not in sight, they offered to us, 
 as a special favour, at a lower rate than was usual. 
 As we drew near to the termination of the acclivity, 
 they grew still more moderate in their charges; 
 but, on reaching level ground and seeing that we 
 were inexorable, they pressed forwards, and to our 
 great comfort we saw them no more. We were, 
 however, but indifferently rewarded for our labour 
 as Botanists, and saw nothing of which we should 
 not have been able to enjoy a very good view as 
 equestrians. I could not help wondering whence, 
 in the olden time, could have congregated the 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 141 
 
 sturdy bands, who at a moment's warning flocked 
 to the standard of their chief. The few cottages 
 we saw, gave little evidence that they could fur- 
 nish the bold warriors who were formerly so ready 
 for field or fray. The ruins of Inversnaid Fort, 
 however, built to repress the daring inroads of Rob 
 Roy, assured us that times must have been indeed 
 different, when it was thought necessary to station 
 here a regiment of regular troops ; and when we 
 recollected the numbers of families who have emi- 
 grated to America, or devoted themselves to peace- 
 ful employments in Glasgow, Paisley, and other 
 commercial towns, or turned their attention to 
 agriculture in the more highly favoured districts, 
 we could scarcely regret to find the country so de- 
 serted. 
 
 At Loch Katrine we had to wait some time for 
 luggage-bearers, who, we found, were now about to 
 become our boatmen ; and very entertaining boat- 
 men they were. One of them in particular recited 
 to us long passages from Scott, and pointed out to 
 us the various spots alluded to in the Lady of the 
 Lake. 
 
 To describe the beauty of Loch Katrine, the 
 Trosachs, &c., would be entirely out of my power, 
 even if it entered into my subject. Suffice it to 
 say, that at nightfall I seemed to have been dream- 
 ing away some weeks of my life in an imaginary 
 land, the only thing that appeared real being my 
 preparation for sleep. 
 
 I must not, however, omit to mention that, 
 although it was nine o'clock when we reached Cal- 
 lender, it was still so light that we were induced 
 to set off to visit Bracklinn Bridge, distant about a 
 mile from the village. Scott, in his notes to the Lady 
 
THE MOUNTAIN. 
 
 of the Lake, says of this romantic spot, " This 
 is a beautiful cascade made at a place called the 
 Bridge of Bracklinn, by a mountain stream called the 
 Keltie, about a mile from the village of Callender, 
 in Menteith. Above a chasm where the brook 
 precipitates itself from a height of at least fifty 
 feet, there is thrown, for the convenience of the 
 neighbourhood, a rustic foot-bridge, of about three 
 feet in breadth, and without ledges, which is scarcely 
 to be crossed by a stranger without awe and appre- 
 hension." The stream still retains these charac- 
 ters, but the bridge is now furnished with a hand- 
 rail. So brilliant was the twilight, that, though 
 there was no moon, I gathered, and was able to 
 distinguish from the description which I had read 
 and recollected, a species of Persicaria* which, like 
 a grass I have already mentioned, Festuca vivipara, 
 produced young plants instead of seeds. It was 
 long past ten when I gathered, and found no diffi- 
 culty in discriminating, two species of Orchis. So 
 ended the third and last day of my botanizing 
 among the Mountains. Next morning, at seven 
 o'clock, we took our seats on the Stirling coach, 
 and, the same evening, accompanied the Professor 
 of Botany at Edinburgh through the splendid con- 
 servatories of the Botanic garden, where, among 
 tropical palms and ferns, we were able to draw 
 forth from our cases living specimens of a plant, ) 
 which happened to be the subject of the evening 
 discussion, a humble native of the Scottish Alps. 
 
 * Polygonwn viviparum. t Sibbaldia procumbent. 
 
143 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE BOG. 
 
 In human works, though laboured on with pain, 
 A thousand movements scarce one purpose gain ; 
 In God's, one single can its end produce, 
 Yet serve to second, too, some other use. 
 
 POPE. 
 
 You are not yet, I suppose, so deeply in love 
 with Botany as to be disposed for a ramble through 
 a bog. As you may, however, during some of 
 your excursions over heath or mountain, happen to 
 encounter one, it will not be amiss if you come 
 prepared to gather from it all the information that 
 it will afford. I took you with me to Scotland, 
 when we resolved to examine the botanical trea- 
 sures of a mountain ; and perhaps we should be 
 able to find better specimens of a bog in Ireland 
 than elsewhere. But there is no necessity that we 
 should cross the channel ; for we may find in Eng- 
 land numerous places in which the phenomenon I 
 am about to describe exists on a sufficiently large 
 scale to afford us a very good example. 
 
 We will suppose, then, that we are traversing 
 what is called a subalpine district ; that is to say, a 
 range of uncultivated hills, not so high as to de- 
 serve the denomination of mountains, but still so 
 far partaking of their characteristic, features and 
 
144 THE BOG. 
 
 vegetation as to be strikingly distinguished from 
 the lower and cultivated country. We have been 
 making our way through stunted Heath and 
 Furze, till we arrive at a place where there is evi- 
 dently more moisture than is congenial to the 
 flourishing growth of the plants w^hich are gene- 
 rally to be observed in such districts. Furze 
 bushes suddenly disappear ; the turf is no longer 
 composed of Fescue-grass, wild Thyme, &c. ; but 
 gives place to several kinds of Sedge, which are to 
 be distinguished from grasses by the glaucous* 
 hue of their leaves. The only kind of Heath 
 which is to be observed, is the " Cross-leaved :"f 
 here and there is discovered a bunch of rushes ; 
 one or two species of Willow seem to be 
 striving to acquire the magnitude of trees ; the air 
 perhaps is scented with an aromatic odour pro- 
 ceeding from " the Dutch Myrtle," a low shrub 
 with shining purplish-brown stems, which, if the 
 season be spring, is loaded with catkins, if sum- 
 mer, is as thickly invested with leaves not unlike 
 those of some kinds of Willow. The most re- 
 markable plant, however, is the Cotton-grass, J 
 waving to and fro its tufted heads of glossy silk, 
 and bending uninjured before the severest blast. 
 If we proceed at all, it must be with caution, for, 
 if we make but a single false step, we run the risk 
 of sinking deep into an abyss of water and fine 
 mud. Experience will tell the Botanist where he 
 can plant his foot with safety. He knows what 
 
 * The word Glaucous is used to describe the peculiar 
 bluish bloom which is to be observed on the leaves of the 
 Pink, and many other plants, easily removed by rubbing the 
 leaves with the finger, but leaving no stain on it. 
 
 t Erica Tetralix. % Eriophorum. 
 
THE BOG. 145 
 
 plants have long spreading roots, those which in- 
 terlace each other so firmly as to allow him to 
 trust his weight without danger of sinking; and, 
 on the other hand, those whose roots descend almost 
 ito the soil ; as well as those which, 
 on their leaves for sustenance, 
 scarcely be said to be furnished with roots at 
 all. But even the Botanist advances with great 
 circumspection, and takes care not to remain long 
 in the same spot; for the ground on which he 
 treads is most treacherous. Howsoever firm the 
 surface may appear, in all probability there lies 
 underneath a subtle mixture of water and decayed 
 vegetable substance ; in which, if the crust on the 
 surface were broken through, he would run the 
 risk of being suffocated. If, when he reaches a 
 spot where the soil appears to be tolerably solid, 
 he stamps heavily with his foot, the ground, to the 
 distance of many yards around, vibrates to such a 
 degree that the stoutest plants are violently shaken. 
 Now, how comes it that the soil here is so different 
 from that adjoining it? But a few yards off, the 
 ground is solid and compact, nay, in some places 
 rocky ; while here it is doubtful whether it should 
 be called with greater propriety earth or water. 
 
 The formation of such bogs is to be attributed 
 in great measure to a few humble plants, indi- 
 vidually of little importance, but collectively con- 
 tributing more to the alteration in the appearance 
 of a country than most plants of greater notoriety 
 and statelier growth. I have already spoken of 
 the important part sustained by the Mosses and 
 Lichens in covering a barren district with soil 
 adapted for the support of various kinds of plants ; 
 
146 THE BOG. 
 
 we shall now see that the former, the Mosses, 
 are not less instrumental in the formation of peat- 
 bogs. 
 
 Many years ago the ground on which we are 
 standing was considerably lower than it now is. 
 Instead of being composed of water and mud, it 
 was probably a hollow place, presenting only a 
 rocky surface, or furnished with a scanty coating 
 of mould washed down from the adjoining banks. 
 During the rainy season water would lodge here, 
 forming a shallow pond, on the edges of which 
 germinated the seeds of several species of moss, 
 which delight in excessive moisture.* These 
 gradually extended over the whole area occupied 
 by the water, and rose above its surface, forming 
 a congenial place of growth for many aquatic 
 plants. These mosses are furnished with very 
 long stems, the lower portions of which, having 
 flourished for a definite period, decayed, while 
 the upper parts still continued to vegetate. Their 
 decomposed substance would afford a kind of soil 
 favourable to the growth of other plants, the seeds 
 of which would be lodged here by the wind or 
 floods, till, in the course of a few years, the 
 ground bore on its surface a half-floating mass 
 of vegetation, the moss still elongating itself, and 
 striving to overtop the other plants which grew 
 among its tangled stems. The bark of many of 
 these plants is furnished with a substance which, 
 when dissolved in water, possesses the peculiar 
 property of preserving from decay most kinds of 
 vegetable as well as animal matter. This is the 
 astringent substance called tannin, found so abun- 
 
 * Sphagnum obtusifolium and S. acutifolium. 
 
THE BOG. 147 
 
 dantly in the bark of the oak, and used for the 
 preserving of hides, or the converting of them into 
 leather. That the water of bogs possesses this 
 property of preserving animal substance to a very 
 great degree, may be inferred from the fact that 
 the bodies of men and horses have been repeatedly 
 found which have not undergone the least change 
 from decomposition, though they must have lain 
 many years in that situation. That it is equally 
 efficacious in preserving vegetable substance from 
 decay is no less evident ; for, when a bog is drain- 
 ed, the substance of the soil, to the depth of very 
 many feet, is found to be almost entirely com- 
 posed of vegetable fibre, scarcely altered in ap- 
 pearance from its original state when it formed 
 the principal constituent of living plants. This 
 substance, called peat, when cut into pieces of 
 a convenient size and shape, forms an excellent 
 fuel. In some places, these peat-bogs occur of 
 very great extent, and are probably the site of 
 ancient forests. That many of them were for- 
 merly covered with trees of great magnitude, there 
 can be no doubt ; for they are found in great 
 numbers embedded in the peat, perfectly sound, 
 and in every respect, (with the exception of colour, 
 which is very dark,) preserving their original ap- 
 pearance. In some parts of Ireland, the only 
 kind of wood used for fuel, building, and the other 
 purposes to which this material is usually applied, 
 is dug up from the bogs. 
 
 This strange alteration in the face of a country 
 may thus be accounted for : suppose a forest of 
 oaks, birches, or firs, (for these are the trees 
 usually found in peat-bogs,) to have been over- 
 
148 THE BOG. 
 
 thrown by a tempest, or, by what appears with 
 far greater probability to have been the case, by 
 one who, next to Time, is the greatest of all de- 
 stroyers man, and that they were suffered to re- 
 main where they fell, the scattered trunks would 
 materially affect the drainage of the country ; that 
 is to say, they would, in the rainy season, prevent 
 the water from escaping to the valleys, and retain 
 it here and there in shallow pools. The ground 
 would soon become unfit for the reproduction of 
 trees, but eminently adapted for the growth of 
 mosses of various kinds, and more especially those 
 which delight in moist situations. These would 
 germinate, and, very soon overtopping the trunks 
 of the fallen trees, would thus originate a process 
 similar to that described above. In time, bog 
 plants of various kinds would appear, which, by 
 continually elongating themselves, and having their 
 undecayed stems and roots interlaced with each 
 other beneath the surface, would produce an annu- 
 ally increasing stratum of peat ; a substance which, 
 in districts where it abounds, is scarcely less valu- 
 able as fuel than wood, or even coal. In those 
 parts of Ireland, especially, where bogs of very 
 great extent occasionally occur, the country people 
 not only supply themselves with firing from these 
 inexhaustible, because always increasing, stores, 
 but obtain an abundant supply of sound and well- 
 seasoned timber, well-adapted to all the uses to 
 which timber is ordinarily applied. It not un- 
 frequently happens that the bones and antlers of 
 an extinct species of elk are found deeply buried 
 beneath the surface, rendered by the tanning pro- 
 perties of the water by which they are surrounded 
 more durable than even iron itself, for they are 
 
THE BOG. 149 
 
 scarcely altered from their original colour and 
 substance ; while iron vessels, which are some- 
 times met with, are so corroded as scarcely to re- 
 tain any of the properties of the metal of which 
 they were made. This remark, of course, does 
 not apply to the precious metals. Golden orna- 
 ments, of a strange form and unknown use, have 
 sometimes been found as bright as when they left 
 the hands of the maker. 
 
 It is possible, that where we are now cautiously 
 picking our steps among tufted sedge and rushes, 
 may lie buried the ruins of some ancient village, 
 once glowing with the active and cheerful life of 
 a rural population : we may now be resting our feet 
 where, at some remote age, waved the branches of 
 oaks under which the Druids assembled to perform 
 their mystical but inhuman rites. Their rock-altars 
 and pillared circles yet remain in places where no 
 trace of wood or forest is now visible. It is not likely 
 that these were originally erected so far from the 
 consecrated grove as they now appear to be, for there 
 is every reason to suppose that the Druids, like the 
 priests of the ancient German tribes, and the still 
 more ancient Phoenicians, erected their altars in the 
 neighbourhood of " groves," as well as in " high 
 places." If, then, we are inclined to mourn over 
 these barren and desolate portions of the country, 
 presenting so melancholy a contrast to what may 
 have been their former flourishing state, let us not 
 forget that, with the rich foliage of deep forests, 
 has passed away a depth of ignorance and supersti- 
 tion, which we cannot realize in imagination with- 
 out shuddering ; and that bleak though the country 
 be, compared to what it once was, it is visited 
 by those only whose hearts we hope have been 
 
150 THE BOG. 
 
 softened by the mild and peaceful influence of 
 Christianity. 
 
 The time may come when art shall assist nature 
 in producing another and as great a change in the 
 appearance of these sterile regions, as unaided 
 nature has slowly and silently effected. Valuable 
 ricks of corn may sometimes be seen even in the 
 centre of a reclaimed bog, which in the memory 
 of man scarcely produced a blade of grass fit for 
 the food of cattle, and where no cattle would 
 venture in quest of it. Draining, turf-burning, 
 manuring, and ploughing, have effected a great 
 deal ; and rendered more efficacious, as these 
 operations yearly are, by science and experience, 
 it is not improbable that thousands of acres may, 
 in the course of a few years, be reconverted into 
 arable land or forests ; healthful farm-houses may 
 rise over the ruined villages of our pagan fore- 
 fathers ; and Christian churches, resting their foun- 
 dations on undiscovered cromlechs, may hold with- 
 in their walls many generations of devotees, wor- 
 shipping at an altar where the sacrifice of prayer 
 and praise will be offered with well-grounded faith, 
 and be freely accepted. " Then shall the wilder- 
 ness and the solitary place be glad for them, and 
 the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose." 
 
 Those districts in which coals are found, afford a 
 yet more prolific subject for speculation, even than 
 peat-bogs. Here we have not merely a single 
 stratum of altered vegetable substance, but nume- 
 rous seams (as they are called) overlying one 
 another, and alternating with layers of sandstone 
 or lime. That coal is of vegetable origin, there 
 can be no doubt. But, how it attained its present 
 position, is a matter involved in mystery. It was 
 
THE BOG. 151 
 
 thought, at one time, to have been brought down 
 by some mighty river in its original condition, and 
 to have been deposited at the bottom of a lake, 
 where, having passed through various stages of 
 decomposition, it assumed its present form. It is 
 now, I believe, considered to be composed of an 
 assemblage of plants of various kinds which grew 
 and decayed in the spot where their remains still 
 continue ; but by what process these became covered 
 by a bed of rock, and by what subsequent opera- 
 tion of nature beds of coal and stone were de- 
 posited above, are questions which no one has 
 satisfactorily solved. That water was in some way 
 a powerful instrument in producing these pheno- 
 mena, cannot be denied, since the skeletons of fish, 
 and remains of other aquatic animals, are frequently 
 found in the overlying rocks. In the coal itself 
 are frequently found impressions of various kinds 
 of plants, quite distinct from any which are now 
 found growing in the same latitudes, but bearing 
 a striking similarity in their construction to the 
 plants of tropical countries. Not only stems and 
 leaves have been discovered, but even fruits have 
 been detected in such a state of preservation, that 
 Botanists have reduced them to their proper orders, 
 having been able to distinguish and describe their 
 peculiar characters. This subject, however, is 
 connected with Geology, rather than with Botany ; 
 and I mention it here, not so much with the 
 intention of tracing any analogy between the 
 formation of coal and peat, as to show that plants 
 may be altered in their character, even more 
 than when converted into the latter substance, 
 and yet be traced with certainty to a vegetable 
 origin. 
 
152 
 
 THE BOG. 
 
 A very curious little plant, which is frequently 
 to be observed in peat-bogs, is the Sundew.* There 
 
 ROUND-LEAVED SUNDEW. 
 
 are several species of it ; but the most common, 
 called the " Round-leaved Sundew," is quite as 
 remarkable as the rarer kinds. The plant con- 
 sists of a very small root, five or six circular leaves, 
 
 * Drosera rotundifolia. 
 
THE BOG. 153 
 
 about half an inch in diameter, and a stem which 
 rises from among them, to the height of from 
 two to four inches, bearing a few inconspicuous 
 flowers. The leaves are concave, and thickly in- 
 vested on their upper surface with hairs of so 
 bright a red colour as to make the plant conspicu- 
 ous at some distance. Each hair is terminated by 
 a minute drop of viscid fluid, which does not eva- 
 porate during hot weather, but seems to be abun- 
 dant in proportion to the brightness of the sun. 
 It appears to be useful by entangling any small in- 
 sect which alights on the leaf, either accidentally, or 
 perhaps mistaking the glittering drops for some 
 delicious food. Once caught, its destruction is in- 
 evitable; its struggles serve to spread the clammy 
 fluid over its body, and finally it becomes so en- 
 tangled among the hairs that it cannot extricate 
 itself, but perishes on the spot. It is difficult to 
 say what advantage our vegetable spider derives 
 from these insidious machinations. Possibly the 
 juices of the decaying insect may be absorbed by 
 the plant, or perhaps the gases evolved during de- 
 composition may be inhaled, and converted into 
 solid vegetable substance. It is certain that, where 
 the insect dies, there it crumbles into dust, for you 
 can scarcely examine a plant without, finding the 
 remains of flies and other small insects, in various 
 stages of decomposition. This property of entrap- 
 ping insects is not peculiar to the Sundew. Several 
 plants, bearing the appropriate name of Catchfly,* 
 have their stems invested, just below each of the 
 knots, with a ring of viscid matter, easily percepti- 
 ble by the finger. Insects, endeavouring to climb 
 
 * Silene. 
 
154 THE BOG. 
 
 up the stem, are caught in this, and may frequently 
 be discovered, struggling in vain to extricate them- 
 selves. A very singular flower, which we see 
 sometimes in gardens, is the Aristolochia ; it has a 
 tube, narrower than that of the Honeysuckle, but 
 the lower end of which suddenly expands and 
 forms a bulb. The narrowest part of the tube is 
 furnished with a row of hairs, pointing inwards, 
 so that flies alighting on the flower in quest of 
 honey find very easy access, but, when they have 
 satisfied themselves, find it impossible to return, 
 in consequence of the passage being blocked up by 
 the points of the hairs; they are therefore kept 
 close prisoners until the flower fades, when they 
 regain their liberty. You have, I dare say, noticed 
 in many flowers, especially the larger kinds, such 
 as the Lily, a quantity of fine yellow powder : now, 
 in order that a flower may produce seeds, it is 
 necessary that some of this powder, called pollen, 
 should be removed from the place where it grows, 
 to another part of the flower. In ordinary cases, 
 this is effected by the wind : but, in the Aristolochia, 
 the wind can have no power; the whole of the 
 interior of the flower being so thoroughly shel- 
 tered, that not a grain of pollen is disturbed, let 
 the wind blow as hard as it may. To remedy this 
 seeming defect, God has " prepared a worm." 
 An insignificant fly, in quest of a particle of honey, 
 alights on the petal of a flower, and, guided probably 
 by an instinct, the very nature of which is unknown 
 to us, discovers the place where the store of sweet 
 fluid is secreted. It finds no difficulty in obtain- 
 ing admission ; but, being disappointed in its en- 
 deavour to return by the way it entered, travels 
 round and round its chamber, seeking some other 
 
THE BOG. 155 
 
 mode of exit. Its efforts, though expended in 
 vain, as it regards its own escape, are not altoge- 
 ther profitless, for in the course of its wanderings it 
 dislodges some grains of pollen, and conveys them 
 unwittingly to the place where they were wanted. 
 By these means the seed-vessel is rendered pro- 
 ductive ; and then, the flower having fulfilled its 
 end, fades, and the poor prisoner is released from 
 his treadmill labours. 
 
 But, perhaps, the most sanguinary of all vege- 
 table fly-catchers is the Venus's Fly-trap. The 
 leaves of this plant are terminated by two lobes, 
 armed with several long spines, which, when a fly 
 alights between them, lock into one another, and 
 crush the unfortunate visitor to death. Specimens 
 of this plant are sometimes to be seen in hot- 
 houses. 
 
 Most of the grass-like plants which are to be 
 found in bogs, and on the banks of ponds and 
 canals, belong to the genus Carex or Sedge. Some 
 of the smaller kinds afford a coarse pasturage for 
 cattle ; but the larger sort are so rigid and tough 
 that animals will rarely touch them. Some species, 
 growing for the most part on the banks of rivers, 
 are very handsome plants ; one particularly,* 
 which bears at the extremity of a stem, two or 
 three feet high, a group of purplish-black catkins, 
 is a very stately herb. You must use some degree 
 of caution, however, in attempting to gather it, 
 for the angles of its three-cornered stem are 
 armed with minute points, like the teeth of a saw. 
 All the sedges have stems more or less triangular, 
 and by this mark they may be distinguished from 
 
 * Carex riparia. 
 
156 THE BOG. 
 
 the grasses, which are universally furnished with 
 round stems. With the exception of contributing 
 to the formation of peat, and helping to bind to- 
 gether the soil which composes the banks of rivers, 
 the sedges are of little service to man. The leaves 
 of the larger kinds, however, are used in Kent 
 for tying hops to the poles ; and, according to 
 Linnaeus, the leaves of some species, after having 
 been combed and dressed, like flax, are used by 
 the Laplanders as a lining for gloves and shoes ; 
 their hands and feet when thus protected, he says, 
 are never frost-bitten. 
 
 Cotton-grass,* called in Scotland canna, affords 
 a vegetable silk, which is said to have been occa- 
 sionally woven into articles of dress. But, although 
 this may have been done as a matter of curiosity, 
 the fibre is evidently too weak to be applied to any 
 really serviceable use as clothing. It may, how- 
 ever, in default of a more elastic substance, be ad- 
 vantageously used to stuff mattresses and pillows. 
 
 Rushes are too well known to need any de- 
 scription. They were formerly used in England 
 for strewing the floors of rooms, a custom which 
 has disappeared since the introduction of carpets. 
 For this purpose the Sweet-sedge f was preferred, 
 on account of its agreeable aromatic odour. But, 
 this plant not being abundant, it is most likely 
 that common rushes were used on ordinary occa- 
 sions. One of the charges brought against Cardinal 
 Wolsey, in the reign of Henry VIII., was that of 
 extravagance, in having his room strewed too fre- 
 quently with rushes. The plant used on this 
 occasion was probably the Sweet-sedge, which 
 
 * Eriophorum. f Acorus Calamus. 
 
THE BOG. 157 
 
 must have been brought, at some considerable ex- 
 pense, from a great distance, as it does not grow 
 in the vicinity of London. Rushes* are now 
 used for making mats and brooms ; and the pith, 
 strengthened by a narrow strip of rind, proves an 
 excellent wick for candles which are required to 
 burn for a long time without consuming much 
 tallow, or giving much light. The rushes used 
 for the bottoms of chairs belong to an entirely 
 different tribe of plants, growing also in marshy 
 places, and called Bulrushes or Clubrushes.^ The 
 flower of the Rush is inconspicuous, but not alto- 
 gether unworthy of notice. It approaches very 
 closely in its structure to the beautiful Lily tribe ; 
 the principal difference being that it has dry and 
 rigid petals, or calyx leaves, the number and ar- 
 rangement of which is the same in both. 
 
 Contrary to what we might expect, aquatic 
 plants, however thick the substance of their stems 
 and leaves may appear, are remarkable for the 
 quantity of air contained in their cells, and not 
 for any exuberance of moisture. We can easily 
 see the reason of this, when we recollect, that as 
 they grow either in the immediate vicinity of 
 water, or actually in water, they do not stand in 
 need of reservoirs of juices. They are more liable 
 to sudden floods than excessive droughts ; they 
 are therefore abundantly supplied with cells filled 
 with air, which keep them buoyant, however high 
 the water may rise. On the contrary, plants 
 which thrive in very dry situations have a ready 
 power of absorbing moisture from the atmosphere, 
 which they also eagerly retain. The Cactus tribe 
 
 * Juncus. t Scirpus. 
 
158 THE BOG. 
 
 flourish in arid situations, where one would sup- 
 pose that no vegetable could long exist. For a 
 short time only they are exposed to rain, and then 
 they put forth their splendid flowers. During 
 the remainder of the year their roots serve only 
 to fix them to the soil, which is too dry to afford 
 them any nourishment ; but, notwithstanding this, 
 they are then quite as juicy and as vigorous as if 
 they grew in the most highly favoured soil. 
 
 The celebrated traveller Humboldt gives the 
 following description of a tree, the Palo de vaca, 
 or Cow-tree, of South America, an account of 
 which will serve well to illustrate my subject. He 
 says : " On the barren flank of a rock grows a 
 tree, with coriaceous* and seemingly dry leaves. 
 Its large woody roots can scarcely penetrate into 
 the stone. For several months in the year, not a 
 shower moistens its foliage. Its branches appear 
 dead and dried ; but, when the trunk is pierced, 
 there flows from it a sweet and nourishing milk. 
 It is at the rising of the sun that this vegetable 
 fountain is most abundant. The blacks and na- 
 tives are then seen hastening from all quarters, 
 furnished with large bowls to receive the milk, 
 which grows yellow, and thickens at its surface. 
 Some employ their bowls under the tree itself, 
 others carry the juice home to their children. "We 
 seem to see the family of a shepherd, who distri- 
 butes the milk of his flock." A tribe of plants 
 common in our country, the Stone-crops, is scarcely 
 less remarkable. They have very succulent stems 
 and leaves, though growing in situations where for 
 long periods they must be deprived of any nutri- 
 
 * Like leather. 
 
THE BOG. 159 
 
 ment through their roots. One species particularly, 
 Sedum Telephium, the " Orpine growing still," of 
 Spenser, will live for several months, though sus- 
 pended by a string from the ceiling of a room. I 
 have even known it send out vigorous shoots, after 
 having been pressed between sheets of paper, and 
 placed in an herbarium. All these plants are 
 abundantly furnished with pores for imbibing 
 moisture from the atmosphere, but scantily pro- 
 vided with perspiratory vessels. On the contrary, 
 aquatic plants readily part with their moisture, 
 which they absorb principally by the under sur- 
 face of their leaves, and transmit through the 
 upper. A Water-lily, or a stem of Forget-me-not, 
 will begin to wither immediately that it is removed 
 from its native haunts. 
 
 On the skirts of bogs are to be found, not un- 
 frequently, the greater and less Skull-cap ;* these 
 two plants afford a beautiful example of the care 
 exercised by Nature in protecting the ripening 
 seed. The corolla (or coloured portion of the 
 flower) consists of one tubular petal ; and the calyx 
 is shaped like a cup, the upper rim of which is 
 larger than the lower, and contains within it four 
 seeds unprotected by a seed-vessel. As soon as 
 the corolla has fallen off, the upper rim of the 
 calyx gradually bends down upon the lower, and 
 continues to grow until it has perfectly filled up 
 the opening ; so that the seeds, which would other- 
 wise be exposed to rain and dew, are as effectually 
 sheltered as if they were enclosed in the most com- 
 pact seed-vessel. When the seeds are ripe, the lid 
 rises, and suffers them to escape. 
 
 u * Scutellaria galericulata and S. minor. 
 
160 THE BOG. 
 
 Among the most beautiful of bog-plants, (for 
 beautiful flowers are to be found even here,) are the 
 minute Radiola, shaped like a shrub, and bearing 
 from twenty to a hundred or more flowers, yet 
 rarely attaining the height of two inches ; the pink 
 Pimpernel,* forming as beautiful an ornament of 
 this unsightly region, as the scarlet Pimpernel does 
 in the rich pasture land ; Buck -bean, f choosing 
 always to grow in places where he may display his 
 elegant pink buds, and his petals beautifully fringed 
 with white filaments, in contrast with dingy water 
 or liquid mud; and lastly, every body's friend, 
 the blue " Forget-me-not," J reminding us, whe- 
 ther we see it here, on the river's bank, or fring- 
 ing the stream by the road-side, of the loved and 
 absent. 
 
 In ponds we may frequently see, in the month of 
 May, a profusion of bright green three-lobed leaves, 
 interspersed with glossy-white flowers, all floating 
 on the surface of the water. This is the Water 
 Crow-foot, and is worthy of note, not only for 
 the pretty showiness of its flowers, but on account 
 of the singular form of its leaves. It grows very 
 frequently in those parts of rivers which, though 
 well supplied with water during winter, are in sum- 
 mer liable to be deserted by the running stream 
 and converted into ponds. Plants which flower 
 just above the surface of the water, the white and 
 yellow Water-lilies, for example, are supported by 
 spreading leaves sufficiently buoyant to sustain the 
 whole plant. Now, it is evident that a submersed 
 plant, furnished with such leaves, and growing in 
 
 * Anagallis tenella. t Menyanthes trlfoliata. 
 
 J Myosotis palustris. Ranunculus aquatilis. 
 
THE BOG. 161 
 
 a river, the current of which is at all rapid, would 
 very soon be stripped of its foliage ; and, deprived 
 of this, the stem would not elongate, so that the 
 plant would never reach the surface of the water 
 to blossom. To obviate this difficulty apparently, 
 a wise Providence has ordered that, so long as the 
 stem remains under water, it shall bear no ex- 
 panded leaves, but a vast number of capillary fibres, 
 resembling the leaves of Fennel. These wave to 
 and fro in the water, and, offering little resistance, 
 are uninjured by the most violent floods. But 
 when the water has retired, and the extremity of 
 the stem reaches the surface, the plant seems 
 endowed with a new power ; the leaves, which it 
 now sends out, are no longer capillary, but dilated 
 and nearly round, eminently adapted for floating, 
 themselves, and for buoying up the still submersed 
 stem. Sometimes it grows at the bottom of rivers, 
 in places where a strong current runs all the year 
 round. In such situations it retains the same 
 characters throughout the whole of its existence ; 
 but that the tendency still exists to produce diffe- 
 rently shaped leaves under altered circumstances, 
 may be discovered by examining the banks of a 
 river which has had the soil taken from its bed 
 thrown on them. Here, if the bank be but mode- 
 rately damp, we shall in all probability find plants 
 sending out three-lobed leaves, and white flowers, 
 as if such a situation were the best adapted for 
 their perfect developement. Growing in a pond, 
 the water of which is still at all seasons, the sub- 
 mersed part of the stem produces capillary leaves, 
 although there is not in such cases so obvious a 
 reason for this peculiar formation. Water, whether 
 moving or stagnant, appears to excite in the plant 
 
 M 
 
160 THE BOG. 
 
 Among the most beautiful of bog-plants, (for 
 beautiful flowers are to be found even here,) are the 
 minute Radiola, shaped like a shrub, and bearing 
 from twenty to a hundred or more flowers, yet 
 rarely attaining the height of two inches ; the pink 
 Pimpernel,* forming as beautiful an ornament of 
 this unsightly region, as the scarlet Pimpernel does 
 in the rich pasture land ; Buck -bean, f choosing 
 always to grow in places where he may display his 
 elegant pink buds, and his petals beautifully fringed 
 with white filaments, in contrast with dingy water 
 or liquid mud; and lastly, every body's friend, 
 the blue " Forget-me-not," J reminding us, whe- 
 ther we see it here, on the river's bank, or fring- 
 ing the stream by the road-side, of the loved and 
 absent. 
 
 In ponds we may frequently see, in the month of 
 May, a profusion of bright green three-lobed leaves, 
 interspersed with glossy-white flowers, all floating 
 on the surface of the water. This is the Water 
 Crow-foot, and is worthy of note, not only for 
 the pretty showiness of its flowers, but on account 
 of the singular form of its leaves. It grows very 
 frequently in those parts of rivers which, though 
 well supplied with water during winter, are in sum- 
 mer liable to be deserted by the running stream 
 and converted into ponds. Plants which flower 
 just above the surface of the water, the white and 
 yellow Water-lilies, for example, are supported by 
 spreading leaves sufficiently buoyant to sustain the 
 whole plant. Now, it is evident that a submersed 
 plant, furnished with such leaves, and growing in 
 
 * Anagallis tenella. t Menyanthes trifoliata. 
 
 J Myosotis palustris. Ranunculus aquatilis. 
 
THE BOG. 161 
 
 a river, the current of which is at all rapid, would 
 very soon be stripped of its foliage ; and, deprived 
 of this, the stem would not elongate, so that the 
 plant would never reach the surface of the water 
 to blossom. To obviate this difficulty apparently, 
 a wise Providence has ordered that, so long as the 
 stem remains under water, it shall bear no ex- 
 panded leaves, but a vast number of capillary fibres, 
 resembling the leaves of Fennel. These wave to 
 and fro in the water, and, offering little resistance, 
 are uninjured by the most violent floods. But 
 when the water has retired, and the extremity of 
 the stem reaches the surface, the plant seems 
 endowed with a new power ; the leaves, which it 
 now sends out, are no longer capillary, but dilated 
 and nearly round, eminently adapted for floating, 
 themselves, and for buoying up the still submersed 
 stem. Sometimes it grows at the bottom of rivers, 
 in places where a strong current runs all the year 
 round. In such situations it retains the same 
 characters throughout the whole of its existence ; 
 but that the tendency still exists to produce diffe- 
 rently shaped leaves under altered circumstances, 
 may be discovered by examining the banks of a 
 river which has had the soil taken from its bed 
 thrown on them. Here, if the bank be but mode- 
 rately damp, we shall in all probability find plants 
 sending out three-lobed leaves, and white flowers, 
 as if such a situation were the best adapted for 
 their perfect developement. Growing in a pond, 
 the water of which is still at all seasons, the sub- 
 mersed part of the stem produces capillary leaves, 
 although there is not in such cases so obvious a 
 reason for this peculiar formation. Water, whether 
 moving or stagnant, appears to excite in the plant 
 
 M 
 
162 THE BOG. 
 
 a tendency to produce capillary leaves; this ten- 
 dency being, in the former case, of the greatest 
 benefit to the plant, in the latter not prejudicial. 
 Possibly, indeed, the large exposure of surface to 
 the water, consequent on the repeated subdivision 
 of the leaves, may be necessary to the perfection 
 of the plant, whether it grow in rivers or in ponds. 
 If this be the case, we have an additional reason for 
 admiring the wisdom " which serves to further, 
 too, some other use.'* 
 
 Other aquatic plants, besides that just described, 
 are remarkable for their peculiar adaptation to the 
 element in which they grow. " The Broad-leaved 
 Pond-weed"* is one of them. You have, pro- 
 
 POND-WEED. 
 
 bably, observed its large elliptical leaves floating 
 on the surface of the water, and lying so flat that 
 they scarcely seem attached to any stem. The 
 upper side of the leaf appears to be covered with 
 some substance which repels water, for let it rain 
 as hard as it will, or let the leaf be sunk, and held 
 
 * Potamogeton natans. 
 
THE BOG. 163 
 
 under the water some minutes, it remains perfectly 
 dry. This property helps to keep it afloat ; but 
 this is not all : the leaf and leaf-stem are not juicy, 
 like those of land-plants, but are composed of an 
 infinite number of cells, filled with air ; the stems 
 too are very long and flexible, so that, whether 
 the water rise or sink, the leaves always rest on 
 the surface. The lower leaves of this plant, as 
 well as those of the Water Crow-foot, are different 
 from the upper, being exceedingly long and narrow. 
 They never reach the surface, yet they are pre- 
 vented from lying at the bottom of the pond in 
 which they grow, by their cellular structure, re- 
 sembling in this respect the floating leaves. 
 
 Several plants belonging to the genus Utricu- 
 laria, or Bladder-wort, are furnished exclusively 
 with leaves like the submersed leaves of the 
 " Water Crow-foot," no part of the plant rising 
 out of the water but the flower and its stalk. 
 Instead of having floating leaves, the root, stems, 
 and leaves are thickly beset with small bladders, 
 which, except during the flowering season, are 
 filled with water. When, however, it is necessary 
 that the plant should rise to the surface, for the sake 
 of expanding its blossoms, the water in the bladders 
 is displaced by air, the plant rises, shoots up its 
 flower-stalk, the blossom expands and fades ; when 
 the bladders become again filled with water, and 
 the plant descends to ripen its seeds at the bottom. 
 
 It matters not, then, whithersoever you turn 
 your eyes ; you will everywhere detect the watch- 
 ful presence of God : 
 
 " Each tree and leaf doth know 
 I AM." 
 
164 
 
 THE BOG. 
 
 Whether we look at the giant Oak, or examine 
 the construction of the minute air-vessels in yonder 
 seemingly worthless weed, we shall not fail to dis- 
 cover that all things are equally fitted by Him to 
 the purposes for which they were created. Magni- 
 tude and duration do not ennoble anything in the 
 sight of Him that inhabiteth eternity. 
 
 Beneath Thy all-directing nod, 
 Both worlds and worms are equal, God ! 
 Thy hand the comets' orbits drew, 
 And lighted yonder glow-worm too ; 
 Thou didst the dome of heaven huild up, 
 And form'dst yon Snow-drop's silver cup. 
 
 BOWRING. 
 
165 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 What hid'st thou in thy treasure-caves and cells, 
 Thou ever-sounding and mysterious Main ? 
 
 Mrs. HEMANS. 
 
 OUR Botanical rambles have already introduced 
 to our notice a large number of plants, so wonder- 
 ful in their structure and design, that we can 
 scarcely conceive it possible, if experience did not 
 contradict us, that men could ever have doubted 
 the omnipresence of a Great First Cause. But, 
 numerous and all-convincing as the examples are 
 which we have already adduced, the total forms 
 but a minute portion of what an every-day walk 
 may present to an eye that will " see and under- 
 stand;" and, when the wonders of the land are 
 exhausted, we may turn to the sea, and detect, in 
 the prolific garniture of its rocks, an overwhelming 
 abundance of organized bodies, attesting, in a new 
 language, the first article of our faith, the Unity, 
 Benevolence, and Almighty Power of our Creator. 
 
 Some of these we shall soon have an opportunity 
 of examining. We might advantageously devote 
 some time to the collecting of the flowering plants 
 which ornament the rugged sides of the cliffs, or 
 bind together the shifting substance of yonder 
 sand-hills. My object, however, being to direct 
 your attention principally to the actual produce of 
 
166 THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 the sea, we will only take a passing glance at the 
 most conspicuous of these. One of the prettiest 
 is the Sea-pink,* or Thrift, so called from its 
 thriving in nearly all situations. You are, no 
 doubt, familiar with it as an edging of garden- 
 beds. In such situations it produces longer leaves, 
 of a brighter green, than when it grows on the sea- 
 shore, and flowers of a deeper rose-colour. There, 
 of course, it is merely a visitor; but it is very 
 commonly met with at a great distance from the 
 sea, growing naturally high up among the moun- 
 tains, when it assumes the habit of Alpine plants, 
 in producing large flowers slightly elevated above 
 the surface of the ground. This capability of 
 flourishing on the sea-shore, as well as in moun- 
 tainous districts, is not peculiar to Thrift, for the 
 Sea-campion f (with, perhaps, some others,) is re- 
 markable for choosing the same places of growth. 
 I am not aware that either of these grows spon- 
 taneously in any intermediate locality ; nor can I 
 assign any reason for this peculiarity. Some light 
 would probably be thrown on the subject, were the 
 stems of each to be analyzed, and the result duly 
 recorded; in which case the presence or absence 
 of the salts, generally found to enter into the com- 
 position of marine plants, would afford a founda- 
 tion for establishing some theory. 
 
 The Yellow Horn-poppy J is conspicuous for its 
 large gaudy flowers, and for its seed-vessels, which 
 are remarkably long, but scarcely exceed in dia- 
 meter the stems which support them. The Sea- 
 convolvulus will be sure to attract your atten- 
 tion, delighting, as it does, to expand its large 
 
 * Statice Armeria. f Silene maritime! . 
 
 | Glaucium luteum. Convolvulus Soldanella. 
 
THE SEA-SHORE. 167 
 
 striped flowers on the sloping bank of some dry 
 sand-hill, where, during the summer months, it 
 presents to the sun a constant succession of beau- 
 tiful but short-lived blossoms. In its immediate 
 vicinity, you will probably find, in full luxuriance, 
 the Eryngo,* or Sea Holly, protected at all points 
 with bristling armour, and easily discovered, at a 
 considerable distance, by the bluish hue of its 
 leaves. Samphire,f which is frequently sent to 
 table as a pickle, is another sea-side plant; not 
 however growing, like the last, on sand, but pre- 
 ferring the steep sides of rocks, which in stormy 
 weather are actually sprinkled with salt water. A 
 large number of curious plants grow in salt 
 marshes, and on the muddy shores of rivers. They 
 are not remarkable for their beauty ; and, as we 
 have much to interest us on the sea-shore itself, I 
 shall leave you to examine them when you have 
 made some proficiency in Botany. 
 
 The term Algce is applied by Botanists to all 
 marine plants that is to say, to all such as grow at 
 the bottom of the sea, or between the levels of 
 high and low water as well as to many kinds 
 growing in fresh water. The structure of all these 
 is exceedingly simple. Examples of the latter 
 you will have in the green masses, composed of 
 tangled threads, which you may see in every stag- 
 nant pond ; we may become acquainted with a vast 
 number of the former in the course of half an hour's 
 walk. 
 
 In ancient times, when a person wished to ex- 
 press utter contempt of a thing, seemingly unfit 
 for any purpose, he would say, " as worthless as 
 
 * Eryngium maritimum. t Crithmum maritimum. 
 
170 
 
 THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 duced into the Orkneys, the country-people op- 
 posed it with the greatest vehemence. " Their 
 ancestors had never thought of making kelp, and 
 it would appear that they themselves had no wish 
 to render their posterity wiser in this matter. So 
 violent and unanimous was their opposition to the 
 individuals employed in this work, that it was found 
 needful to obtain protection from the officers of 
 justice for the individuals employed in the work. 
 Several trials were the consequences of these out- 
 rages, which were justified on the plea, ' that the 
 suffocating smoke that issued from the kelp-kilns 
 would sicken or kill every species of fish on the 
 coast, or drive them into the ocean, far beyond the 
 reach of the fishermen, blast the corn and the 
 grass on their farms, and introduce diseases of 
 various kinds.' The influential persons, however, 
 who had taken an interest in the matter, succeeded 
 in establishing the manufacture ; and the benefits 
 which accrued to the community soon wrought a 
 change in the public feeling. The value of estates 
 possessing a sea-coast well stocked with sea-weed 
 increased so much, that, where the plants did not 
 grow naturally, attempts were made, and not 
 without success, to cultivate them by covering the 
 sandy bays with large stones. By this method, a 
 crop was obtained in about three years, the sea 
 appearing to abound everywhere with the neces- 
 sary seeds."* 
 
 The sea-weeds also contain a substance, called 
 Iodine, which is invaluable as a medicine. It 
 derives its name from a Greek work signifying a 
 violet, from the peculiar hue of the vapour which 
 
 * Greville's Algae Britannicae. 
 
THE SEA-SHORE. 171 
 
 it emits when heated. Polished plates of silver 
 held over these fumes are peculiarly sensitive of 
 light, and are used in taking likenesses by the pro- 
 cess called the Daguerreotype. 
 
 Some species also contribute to the comfort of 
 man, by supplying him with food. The " Carrageen 
 Moss,"* sold in druggists' shops, is nothing more 
 
 CARRAGEEN MOSS. 
 
 than dried sea-weed, growing abundantly on most 
 of our coasts. Another speciesf is stewed, and, 
 
 * Chondrus crispus. f Porphyra laciniata. 
 
THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 under the name of Laver, is brought to our tables, 
 and by some considered a delicacy. One or two 
 of the larger species are eaten raw by the poorer 
 classes in Ireland and Scotland. 
 
 While walking round the coast near the Giant's 
 Causeway, I once observed a number of [men and 
 women busily employed near the water's edge ; 
 and, on inquiring of my guide, found that they 
 were providing themselves with food for their next 
 meal. Being curious to discover what kind of 
 fare the rocks afforded, I stopped one of the men, 
 who was going home with his bundle, and asked 
 him to give me a bit to taste, prepared in the way 
 in which it was generally eaten. He accordingly 
 stripped off all the expanded part of a long and 
 narrow leaf,* and presented me with the stem, or 
 mid-rib. It was, I must confess, as good as I ex- 
 pected; but, at best, a very sorry substitute for a 
 raw carrot, combining with the hardness of the 
 latter the fishy and coppery flavour of an oyster. 
 I made a very slight repast, as you may suppose, 
 and, after having given the man a few pence for 
 his civility, continued my walk. My guide, how- 
 ever, seemed to think, that, if I did not choose to 
 enjoy to the full the advantage which I had pur- 
 chased, there was no reason w*hy he should not. 
 He accordingly stayed behind for a minute or two, 
 and, when he rejoined me, was loaded with a supply 
 of the same plant, which he continued to munch 
 with much apparent relish as we pursued our 
 walk. 
 
 The edible nests, which are constructed by 
 several species of swallow in Java, are generally 
 believed to be composed of a substance collected 
 
 * Alaria esculenta. 
 
THE SEA-SHORE. 173 
 
 from sea-weed. They are occasionally brought to 
 England, but are too highly prized in China, 
 where they are imported in great quantities, to 
 become an important article of commerce; the 
 purest being frequently sold for their weight in 
 gold. " The collecting of birds' nests appears, 
 from Mr. Crawford's account, to be as perilous a 
 toil as our fearful trade of gathering samphire ; 
 for, he says, the nests are obtained in deep and 
 damp caves, and are most esteemed if taken before 
 the birds have laid their eggs. The coarsest are 
 those which are collected after the young have been 
 fledged. The finest nests are the whitest, that is, 
 those that are not defiled by the young birds. 
 They are taken twice a-year, and if regularly col- 
 lected, and if no unnecessary injury be offered to 
 the caverns, the produce is very equal, and the 
 harvest very little, if at all, improved by being left 
 unmolested for a year or two. Some of the 
 caverns are extremely difficult of access, and the 
 nests can only be collected by persons accus- 
 tomed from their youth to the office. In one 
 place, the caves are only to be approached by a 
 perpendicular descent of many hundred feet, by 
 ladders of bamboo and rattan, over a sea rolling 
 violently against the rocks. When the mouth of 
 the cavern is attained, the perilous office of taking 
 the nests must often be performed by torch-light, 
 by penetrating into the recesses of the rock, where 
 the slightest trip would be instantly fatal to the 
 adventurers, who see nothing below them but the 
 turbulent surf, making its way into the chasms of 
 the rock." 
 
 The fresh-water Algae, besides supplying fish 
 with an inexhaustible stock of food, are of great 
 
174 THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 service in purifying the water in which they grow. 
 This end they effect in two ways, first, by ap- 
 propriating for their own support the foul matter, 
 which would render the water putrid and incapable 
 of supporting animal life ; and, secondly, by evolv- 
 ing oxygen, or vital air, which renders the water 
 fit for the respiration of fishes. Their thread-like 
 stems may be frequently discovered, thickly in- 
 vested with brilliant globules, which, when the 
 water is disturbed, rise to the surface, and discharge 
 their contents into the air. Some of the smaller 
 kinds, the substance ; of which is gelatinous, exer- 
 cise a mechanical action, by arresting particles of 
 impure matter, which are carried against them by 
 the water, and retaining them at the bottom. 
 Hence it happens that the water of running streams 
 is often perfectly pure, though the smooth pebbles 
 over which it flows are thickly coated with slime 
 and mud. 
 
 You have no doubt observed a green vegetable 
 substance, clothing the damp walls of cellars, &c. 
 This belongs also to the Algae, and is not without 
 its use. " It forms," says Sir James E. Smith, 
 " in the wet months of winter a verdant tapestry 
 on damp walls and stones, in confined areas, and 
 dark subterranean buildings in which the inhabit- 
 ants of crowded cities gasp for air, the effects of 
 which on the atmosphere, by rendering it some- 
 thing more respirable, must be as beneficial as those 
 observed to be produced by analogous species on 
 corrupted water." 
 
 " But, were the Algae really serviceable, neither 
 in supplying the wants, nor administering to the 
 comforts of mankind, in any other respect, their 
 character would be redeemed by their usefulness 
 
THE SEA-SHORE. 175 
 
 in the arts. One species is invaluable to the 
 Chinese as a glue and varnish. Though a small 
 plant, the quantity annually imported at Canton 
 is stated to be about 29,000 Ibs. It is sold at 
 Canton for 6d. or 8d. per pound, and is used for 
 the purposes to which we apply glue, and gum- 
 arabic. The Chinese employ it chiefly in the ma- 
 nufacture of lanterns to strengthen or varnish the 
 paper, and sometimes to give a gloss to gauze or 
 silks."* 
 
 Botanists have arranged and named all the dis- 
 covered species of Algae which grow in the sea, 
 in fresh water, and on land. Some of these, 
 however, are so minute, and others vary so 
 much at different seasons of the year, that I would 
 not recommend you to study them, until you have 
 acquired habits of accuracy in the examination of 
 specimens, by dissecting land plants. 
 
 All the sea-weeds, properly so called, appear to 
 depend principally for their sustenance upon the 
 water in which they float. Many of them have no 
 perceptible roots, being merely fixed to the rocks 
 by the lower extremity of their stems ; some are 
 attached by a small disc, shaped like a button ; 
 while those, the stems of which are subdivided at 
 the base, in a manner somewhat resembling roots, 
 seem rather to require them as an additional secu- 
 rity against the violence of the waves, than to em- 
 ploy them as a means of subsistence. The large sea- 
 weeds, called " Tangles,"-)* or " Sea-girdles," afford 
 a remarkable example of such a root. The plant is 
 composed of a long cylindrical stem, about the size 
 of an ordinary walking-stick ; its upper extremity 
 
 * Dr. Greville. t Laminaria digitata. 
 
176 THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 expands into and forms a bunch of stout leathery 
 strips, which must present a large surface to the 
 
 SEA-TANGLES. 
 
 water, and therefore require to be attached strongly 
 to the rock. This object is effected by the lower 
 portion of the stem being subdivided into a great 
 number of ramifications, scarcely larger than whip- 
 cord, each of which clings most tenaciously to the 
 rock. In spite of this, however, of all the various 
 
THE SEA-SHORE. 177 
 
 kinds of sea-weeds which are thrown on shore 
 during a storm, Tangles are the most abundant, 
 and for this reason (at least I know no other) : a 
 species of limpet (Patella Icevis) fixes itself on 
 the roots of the young plants, and feeds on their 
 substance. Like the common limpet, it never 
 changes its place of abode ; but, as it grows older, 
 enlarges its chamber, not only eating deeper into 
 the stem, but widening its cell on all sides. It 
 thus destroys the divisions of the root one after 
 another, till the plant is so weakened in its hold on 
 the rock, that the violent action of the water on its 
 tufted head tears it away, and carries it, with its 
 insidious but imprudent tenant, to the shore. I 
 will not go so far as to say, that all the Tangles 
 thrown ashore owe their destruction to these lim- 
 pets ; but, if you examine their roots within a 
 short time after they have quitted the water, you 
 will discover many which have been eaten away in 
 the manner described; and indeed, in numerous 
 instances, the shells, with their inhabitants yet 
 alive, adhering to them. The young plants of this 
 species are eaten in Scotland, and, within the last 
 twenty years, were sold in the streets of Edinburgh. 
 When cooked, the young stalks are not unplea- 
 sant ; and, in some places, cattle are fed upon this 
 plant, when it has been boiled. The stems are 
 sometimes made into knife-handles, which, after a 
 few months' exposure to the air, become hard and 
 shrivelled, and scarcely to be distinguished from 
 hartshorn. A stem with its appendage of leaves 
 is sometimes dried, and hung up by countrymen in 
 their cottages, and serves to indicate an approaching 
 change of weather, becoming damp and flaccid when 
 the atmosphere is highly charged with moisture, 
 
178 THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 and recovering its rigid character on the return of 
 dry weather. " In some places of the western 
 islands in Scotland, it forms even a sort of soil on 
 the pebbles of the beach, on which the poor natives 
 sow barley ; and, as the sea-weed rots, the grain 
 drops with it into the interstices, so that, when the 
 harvest is ready, it is seen growing on a surface of 
 naked polished pebbles." Berwick Flora. 
 
 It is a plant of very rapid growth, as appears 
 from the following narrative related by Mr. Neill : 
 " A stone beacon was being erected on a low rock 
 called the Carr, near the entrance of the Frith of 
 Forth. This rock is about twenty feet broad, and 
 sixty feet long ; and is only uncovered at the lowest 
 ebb of spring-tides. It was at this time completely 
 covered with the larger Algae, especially Fucus escu- 
 lentusf and Sea Tangles. By the necessary prepa- 
 rations for the beacon, these were all cleared off, 
 and the rock reduced to a bare state by the begin- 
 ning of November, 1813, when it was obliged to be 
 abandoned for the winter. The coating of sea- 
 weed had at first been cut away by the workmen, 
 the roots or bases afterwards trampled by their 
 feet, and much of the surface of the rock had been 
 chiselled. Upon returning to the Carr, in May, 
 1814, in order to recommence operations, it was 
 matter of no slight surprise to find the surface again 
 as completely invested with large sea-weeds as ever 
 it was, although little more than six months had 
 elapsed since the work had been left off, when, as 
 already said, the rock had been cleared of weed. 
 In particular, it was observed that many newly 
 produced specimens of Fucus esculentus measured 
 
 * Alaria esculenta. 
 
THE SEA-SHORE. 179 
 
 six feet in length. The Tangle was only about 
 two feet long. It is to be observed, that the spe- 
 cimens here alluded to, were taken from that part 
 of the surface of the rock which had been dressed 
 off with the pick or chisel the preceding autumn ; 
 they had therefore grown from the seed." 
 
 The plant called Sea-laces, or Sea-whips, affords 
 a remarkable example of an elongated stem, which 
 sends out neither branches nor leaves throughout 
 its whole extent. It consists of a simple tube, of 
 about the thickness of whip -cord, hollow and in- 
 ternally jointed. The cavities are filled with air, 
 and serve to keep the plant buoyant. It often 
 attains the length of thirty or forty feet, and 
 grows in such abundance as sometimes to impede 
 the progress of boats, as the extremities rise to 
 the surface wherever the water is sufficiently shal- 
 low to allow them. 
 
 These two grow only in places which are rarely 
 or never deserted by the water; but there are 
 very many species which grow on parts of the sea- 
 coast that are uncovered at every ebb of the tide. 
 One of the most abundant of these is the Knotted 
 Fucus* called, from the quantity of kelp which 
 it contains, kelp-wrack. It is easily distinguished 
 by the large oblong air-vessels or bladders, ex- 
 ternally resembling berries, which are scattered 
 throughout the whole of its length. These serve 
 the same purpose as the hollow tube of the last 
 mentioned, and are largest and most numerous 
 when the plant grows in deep water, for then it 
 attains a very great length, and would seem to 
 require more support. They are sometimes made 
 
 * Fucus nodosus. 
 
180 THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 into whistles by children, whence the plant is 
 called Sea-whistles. If put into the fire, they 
 burst with a loud report. 
 
 Another species,* which grows in similar situa- 
 tions, differs from this in having a more dilated 
 stem, of a thinner substance, and more nume- 
 rous air-bladders, which are, however, smaller. 
 You can scarcely walk on a weedy sea-shore with- 
 out treading on the latter, which crack under 
 the feet at every step. Like the last, it is 
 extensively used in the manufacture of kelp. 
 " In the Isles of Jura and Skye it is frequently 
 a winter food for cattle, which regularly come 
 down to the shores at the receding of the tide 
 to seek for it; and sometimes even the deer 
 have been known to descend from the moun- 
 tains to the sea-side to feed upon this plant. 
 Linnasus informs us that the inhabitants of Goth- 
 land, in Sweden, boil it with water, and, mixing 
 with it a little coarse meal or flour, feed their hogs 
 upon it; for which reason they call the plant 
 Swintang or Swine-tang; and in Suavia, he says, 
 the poor people cover their cottages with it, and 
 use it for fuel. In Jura, and some other of the 
 Hebrides, the inhabitants dry their cheeses with- 
 out salt, by covering them with the ashes of this 
 plant, which abounds so much in that substance, 
 that from five ounces of the ashes may be pro- 
 cured two ounces and a half of fixed alkaline salts, 
 or half their own weight." Sir W. J. Hooker. 
 Drummond says, that " the cattle go regularly 
 down to the shore at ebb-tide, and feed on 
 this and various other sea-weeds, and it is ob- 
 served that they know their time exactly, even 
 
 * Fucus vesiculosus. 
 
THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 181 
 
 when far away from the sea, and not within view 
 of it." 
 
 Among the sea-weed thrown on shore after a 
 storm, you will frequently find a singularly shaped 
 substance, which, at first sight, you will probably 
 imagine to be a large beetle, and, on examination, 
 will pronounce a de- 
 tached portion of some 
 marine plant. Both 
 suppositions are equal- 
 ly erroneous : you see 
 before you neither sea- 
 weed nor insect, but 
 the outer integument 
 of the egg of the skate. 
 These purses, as they 
 are called, when cast 
 by the fish, may be 
 described as oblong, 
 leathery, or almost 
 horny pouches, con- 
 vex on both sides, and 
 internally hollow, con- 
 taining a substance 
 bearing a close re- 
 semblance to the yelk 
 and white of a bird's 
 egg. The four horns 
 which project from 
 the angles are much 
 longer in their natural 
 state than in the broken specimen from which the 
 annexed drawing was made, two of them being 
 slightly hooked. These latter seem designed 
 to attach the incipient animal to the weed at 
 the bottom of the sea. When the fish has at- 
 
 PURSE OF THE SKATE. 
 
182 THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 tained its perfect state, it escapes at one end, 
 which opens readily from within, and it is in this 
 state that the purse is generally cast ashore. 
 Sometimes after a violent storm they may be 
 found still containing the imperfect animal. An- 
 other fish common on our shores, the dog-fish, 
 is propagated in the same way; but the purses, 
 instead of being furnished with horns, terminate 
 in elastic sinewy cords many feet long, which, in 
 all probability, become entangled in the weeds at 
 the bottom of the sea, and, while the tender ani- 
 mal is protected from the attacks of other marine 
 animals by its horny covering, keep it fixed to its 
 moorings in deep water. I am now trespassing, 
 I know, on another branch of natural history, 
 namely Zoology. I am induced, however, to 
 make this brief notice, from having for a long 
 time myself believed that sea-purses were of 
 vegetable origin, and somewhat analogous to the 
 air-vessels of the Knotted Fucus. 
 
 It very frequently happens during the hot sum- 
 mer months, that the sea-weeds, which grow be- 
 tween high and low water-mark, are exposed for 
 many hours together to the direct rays of the 
 sun, and are consequently liable to be scorched, 
 and to become perfectly dry. The flowering 
 plants, if reduced to such a state, could never be 
 restored by the application of moisture; the 
 mosses and lichens, as we have seen before, would 
 recover their state of freshness, if but a portion of 
 the plant were immersed in water. Now, the 
 cases in which the latter plants might be partially 
 exposed to moisture, are numerous, and hence we 
 see the advantage which they derive from being 
 able to transmit fluids from one part to another. 
 
THE SEA-SHORE. 183 
 
 But we can scarcely conceive any circumstances 
 under which the sea-weed would be liable to be 
 only partially submersed. When the returning 
 tide rose so high as to wet one portion of a plant, 
 it would necessarily be high enough to cover the 
 whole ; and consequently, in the case of sea-weeds, 
 no provision is made for the transmission of fluids 
 through the whole extent of the plant, each part 
 only recovering its freshness as it becomes im- 
 mersed. One kind, approaching in habit some 
 species of lichen, and therefore called Lichina, 
 grows on rocks, which are only occasionally moist- 
 ened by the sea-water ; nevertheless, it suffers no 
 detriment from its prolonged and often-repeated 
 abstinence, but on the first sprinkling of a few 
 drops of spray immediately recovers its vigour. 
 
 LICHINA PYGM2EA. LICHINA PYGM^EA. 
 
 Natural size. Magnified. 
 
 Very different from the above are a few species, 
 which are, during the greater part of their exist- 
 ence, attached to no solid substance, but float 
 about at or near the surface of the sea. The 
 most remarkable of them is the " Sargassum vul- 
 gare" the " Tropic Grape" of sailors. It is 
 worthy of attention, not only from its wandering 
 
184 THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 habits, quitting as it does the sub-marine soil, to 
 which in its early stages it is attached, but also 
 for the amazing profusion in which it is frequently 
 found. It only grows within forty degrees of lati- 
 tude on either side of the equator; but currents 
 often cast it on our coast. It is a very remarkable 
 circumstance in the history of this plant, that it is 
 chiefly local in its position, even when detached, 
 forming two great banks, one of which is usually 
 crossed by vessels homeward bound from Monte 
 Video, or the Cape of Good Hope ; and so con- 
 stant are they in their places that they assist the 
 Spanish pilots to rectify their longitude. It is 
 probable that these banks were known to the 
 Phoenicians, who in thirty days' sail, with an east- 
 erly wind, came into what they called " the Weedy 
 Sea;" and to the present day, by the Spaniards and 
 Portuguese, the chief tract is named Mar de Zar- 
 gasso. It was the entering on such fields as these 
 that struck so much terror into the minds of the 
 first discoverers of America; for, sailing tardily 
 through extensive meadows for days together, the 
 sailors of Columbus " superstitiously believed 
 that the hindrance was designed by Heaven to 
 stay their adventurous course ; hence they wildly 
 urged their commander to proceed no further, 
 declaring that, through the bands thus woven by 
 nature, it would be presumptuous impiety to force 
 a way." Burnett. 
 
 " That these plants are produced within the 
 tropics," remarks Dr. Greville, " there can hardly 
 be a question ; but at what depth they vegetate 
 is still involved in obscurity. Neither is it clearly 
 ascertained why the banks of weed should always 
 occur in the same places. The supposition, that 
 
THE SEA-SHORE. 185 
 
 they proceed with the gulf-stream from the Gulf 
 of Mexico, (whence the original name of Gulf- 
 weed ,) is now exploded." 
 
 This plant, in all probability, attains a larger 
 size than any other ; and it is worthy of remark, 
 that the smallest and simplest of vegetables be- 
 longs to the same natural order. Captain Ross, 
 on his return from the Polar expedition, in 1819, 
 announced the discovery of mountains, some miles 
 in length, which were covered to the depth of ten or 
 twelve feet, with red snow. A similar phenome- 
 non had been observed before in various parts of 
 the world, having sometimes occasioned great 
 alarm. The investigations of recent naturalists 
 have satisfactorily proved, that this remarkable 
 appearance is to be attributed to the presence of 
 an exceedingly minute plant, of the very simplest 
 conformation, vegetating in infinite profusion in 
 the coloured substance. It is not agreed whether 
 the plant is matured in the air, or whether it 
 vegetates after it has fallen to the ground: if 
 the latter be the case, its growth must be incon- 
 ceivably rapid, it having happened that a district 
 of many miles in extent has assumed a red hue 
 in a single night. It seems, however, most pro- 
 bable, that the infinitely minute seeds are carried 
 through the air like smoke or vapour, that they 
 germinate by the influence of the moisture con- 
 tained in the atmosphere, and are brought to the 
 ground by the falling snow. Rain and dew have 
 less frequently been observed of the same colour, 
 sometimes in sufficient quantities to stain the 
 water in pools, and to give it the appearance of 
 being converted into blood. But not only have 
 we on record showers of rain, hail, and snow, 
 
186 THE SEA-SHORE. 
 
 tinged of a red colour, but they have been ob- 
 served of other colours, viz. yellow, blue, and 
 green. In some of these cases the phenomenon 
 is produced by varieties of the same plant, differ- 
 ing only in their tint; in others there is also a 
 slight difference in structure. In all, the sub- 
 stance of the plant consists of cells filled with a 
 fluid which colours the whole. 
 
 These are a few among the many interesting 
 objects which a sea-side ramble presents to our 
 notice, and they are only a few. A close examina- 
 tion of a small extent of sea-shore, where sea-weed 
 is plentiful, will prove to you that the " great 
 deep " abounds in vegetables as various in form 
 and colour, as in size; and the microscope will 
 reveal to you wonders as great as the land can 
 afford. Simple thread-like tubes jointed fila- 
 ments, the particles of which cohere by inconceiv- 
 ably minute points tangled tufts, consisting of 
 countless feathery stems exquisitely veined leaves, 
 all abounding with fructification as various as the 
 plants themselves, wave to and fro in the little 
 pools left among the rocks by the receding tide. 
 And as to colour, you can scarcely name a tint 
 which is not here to be met with, as brilliant and 
 delicate as in the opening rose, or the full-blown 
 cactus. Time will not serve me to particularize 
 them ; and indeed, I should find it very difficult to 
 describe the minute kinds in such a way as to 
 enable you to fix on the species which I had in 
 view: but a cursory glance will be sufficient to 
 teach you the same lesson which throughout all our 
 rambles it has been my principal object to incul- 
 cate : that the meanest work in the Creation is 
 well worthy of our deepest research and admira- 
 
THE SEA-SHORE. 187 
 
 tion, not merely because it may lead to some useful 
 discovery, but because the actual inquiry, while it 
 compels us to engage in exercise healthful to the 
 body, is equally beneficial to the mind making 
 us wiser, better, and happier. And senseless, in- 
 deed, must he be, who, after adding to his store of 
 happiness by looking into the things of God's Crea- 
 tion, fails to discover that the knowledge and love 
 of God, his own and their Creator, should be to 
 him the source and spring of all his happiness. 
 Can it be, that fallen man should feel his mind 
 expand in the peaceful enjoyment of dissecting the 
 puny herbs which Nature scatters everywhere in 
 his way, and not rejoice in his moments of reflec- 
 tion that the GOD OF NATURE has revealed Himself 
 also as the GOD OF PEACE ? If, by searching into 
 the laws by which He governs the universe, the 
 mind attain a quiet and calm enjoyment as un- 
 mixed with evil as anything earthly can be, 
 how much more conducive to his happiness must 
 that knowledge be which " maketh wise unto salva- 
 tion!" 
 
 He prayeth best, who loveth best 
 All things both great and small, 
 For the Great God, who loveth us, 
 He made and loveth all. 
 
 COLERIDGE. 
 
 THE END. 
 
LONDON : 
 Printed by S. & .1. BKNTLB?, WILSON, and FLBY, Bangor House, Shoe Lai 
 
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