A — ' A = :^c^ A = ''Jl - \ ^ n = ID u = ^=^ zn 3 - 7 = 7 m 9 m 9 m 3> 3 m 1 *1 I,' THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES « » ^ r.OaUcnadAUdi l.Mtvidow Saffron 2 D.-nsv S.Purple Saiulwori FLOWERS OP THE MATIN AND EVEN SONG; OR, THOUGHTS FOR THOSE WHO RISE EARLY. BY MARY ROBERTS. AUTHOR OF RUINS AND OLD TREES, ASSOCIATED WITH MEMORABLE EVENTS IK ENGLISH HISTORY," " PROGRESS OP CREATION," " COXCHOLOGIST'S C05IPA>-I0N," ETC. LONDON: GRANT AND GRIFFITH, SUCCESSOKS TO JOHN HARRIS, CORNER OF ST. PAUL's CHURCHYARD. M.DCCC.XLV. LONDON: Printed by 8 i J. Bentlzt. Witsou. and FuT, Bangor House, Shoe Lane, 1^ f( ^^o^-.^-^ BY SPECIAL PEBMISSION OP HER MOST GRACIOUS MAJESTY, (l^xmn Vittotia, THIS WORK IS DEDICATED TO HER ROYAL HIGHNESS BY HER ROYAL HIGHNESs's DEVOTED AND HUMBLE SERVANT, MARY EOBEETS. PREFACE. Every flower telleth its own tale to the ear of reason ; yet men pass by unheeding. Women too, and young children, who love flowers, and ask questions concerning them, seem alike regardless of the small voices which speak from out the brakes and hedge- rows, the gaily decked meadows, and daisied commons. I have listened to those voices, height- ening the delight of every country walk, and I have desired that others should profit Kkewise. Amid those mingled voices, there- VI PREFACE. lore, I liavc sought to embody a few of the most interesting, and to describe especially, such flowers as observe a fixed time of opening or shutting, and from which Lin- naeus constituted his celebrated horologe, or Watch of Flora, Nothing more remains to be observed concerning this small volume, except as regards its title. To those who appreciate the Book of Common Prayer I need scarcely mention, that the tenns Matin and Even Song are used in reference to the time appropriated for reading such lessons as are appointed for the daily services. When considering the regular opening and closing of those flowers which Linnaeus termed solar, because rejoicing as it were, when the sun arises, throwing wide their petals to his beams, and closing them at even tide, as if PREFACE. VU to guard their tiny households from the dangers of the night, I have thought what a theme for meditation to the passer-by ! And, thus thinking, I have given to such flowers a more appropriate designation, as it seems to me, than that assigned by Linnaeus, by calling them, Flowers of the Matin and Even Song. CONTENTS. MEADOW SAFFRON. PAGE Origin of the Name. — Place of Growth. — Meadows by the Stream Side. — Holy-Well. — Its ancient Cross and Cup. — Singular Construction of the Flower. — Adaptation to the Season of its Flowering. — Reflections on the Orphan Flower, — and Poetry. . , . , .1 THE DAISY. Its- Derivation. — Associations of Childhood with the Daisy. — Names given to it. — Belle Marguerite of the French. — Meadow Pearl. — '^' Bonnie Gem." — Cuckoo among Flowers. — Task assigned to the Daisy. — Its punctual Opening at certain Hours ; seeming to watch for the Sun when he arises, and telling of coming Showers. — A favourite Flower among Poets. — Wood Nymphs seen in Poet's Vision, decked Avith the simple Daisy, by Milton. — Ruined Towers of Ludlow Castle. — Its former Greatness. — Cowper's Reflection on the Daisy. — X CONTENTS. FAGB Shakspeare, Burns, and Chaucer ^\TOte respecting it. — Higlicr Thoughts than Cliihlhood's Joys, or Poetic Musings associated with the simple Flower. — Lessons to he derived from it. — Poetry. . 11 PURPLE SANDWORT. Name whence derived. — Lark and Purple Sand- wort associated in the Herdsman's Calendar, — Beauty of the early Morning. — Different Species of Sandwort. — Places of tlieir Growth. — Peculiarities in tlicir Construction. — Poetry. . . .25 THE DANDELION. Derivation of the Name. — Thoughts suggested by observing the Dandelion growing in deserted Places. — Historic Associations with different Flowers. — Ancient Ruin on the Verge of a wild Common, suj)poscd to have been erected in the Time of Queen Elizabeth. — Its lone and desolate Appearance. — Visited by Village Children to ga- ther the bright Flowers that grew among the Ruins. — Beauty of the Sphere composed of small An-ow-like Seeds. — Poetry. . . .39 YELLOW GOAT'S-BEARD. Derivation of the Name. — Punctual in its open- ing and closing. — Wonderful Construction of its Roots, Stem, and Leaves. — Effect of Light and CONTENTS. XI PAGE Heat on the Sap. — Spiral Wires. — Air Vessels. — Difference of Scent and Colour observable in Plants that gi-ow in the same Soil. — Common Yar- row and Henbane afford remarkable instances, with the Goat's-beard and Lettuce. — Difference of Roots. — Their especial reference to the Habits of Plants. — Remarkable Property in some Plants of opening and closing at stated Hours, ascribed to the Agency of the Spiral Fibres. — Their further Use in the Vegetable Economy. — Purple Goat's- beard noticed by Dellenius as growing in Cumber- land : by Gerard in Lancashire. — Time Pieces of Nature's making. — Useful to Labourers. — Poetry. 49 SCARLET PIMPERNEL. Notice of the Three Species that form tliis small Tribe. — Places of Growth, and singular Beauty. — Bog Pimpernel. — Approaches nearer to London than any other Plant. — Recollections of Home and Kindred in Foreign Lands associated with the Sight of Flowers. — Poetry. . . .65 WOOD SORREL. Derivation of its Generic Name. — Vale of Dud- combe. — Well-head, and Flowers. — Traditions respecting it. — Tufts of Fern and Hart's-tongue beside the Stream. — Golden Saxifrage and White Sorrel. — Reflections suggested by the Remem- Xll CONTENTS. rAGK brance of Diulconibc'. — Tlic Poet Keblc probably visited tliat Spot. — His Brother, tlie Pastor of a Ncifjhbouring Village. — Sources of F/njoynieiit pe- culiar to a Christian Poet. — Pleo-surcs derived from Flowers, and the Places of their Growth, by Bo- tanists. — Two species of Wild Sorrel, the White and Yellow, — Ueinarks on the Adaptation of \\'hite Flowers to the Spring. — Brighter Colours in Summer Flowers. — Familiar instances: the Com Cockle, Com Marigold, ^Vi\d Charlock, and Blue Cyanus. — Frequent reference made by our Lord while instructing his Disciples to Natural Objects. — Closing Observations. . . .77 EVENING PKLMROSE. Name whence derived. — Beauty of Twilight. — Thoughts suggested by the lighting up of Stars. — Opening of the Evening Primrose when all other Plants close. — Resort of numerous winged Crea- tures. — Found in the Vale of Clwyd, near Ruthin. — Sketch of a Moonlight Scene. — Night Moths and Ephemera. — Luminous Appearance of the Flower. — Phenomena of Phosphorescent Light observed in other Plants, and in Mosses growing on Dartmoor. — Suggestions respecting their Lu- minous Appearance. — Poetry. . . .1)1 CONTENTS. Xm CHICKWEED. Origin of the Name.— Anecdote of Henry Mar- ty n.— His weary Walk up the Rocky Mountain at the Cape.— Encoiu-aged by the Sight of a beautiful Flame-coloured Flower.— Reflections suggested by the Construction of the Common Chickweed. — Description of the Capsules.— Curious and ela- borate Machinery of the Sap Vessels, and Spiral Wires.— Closing of the Flowers at the Approach of Evening.— Sleep of Plants.— Poetry. . . 101 MOUSE-EAR HAWKWEED. Derivation of the Name.— Its Place of Growth. —Observations on the Petals of Plants,— Their Use and Beauty. — Floral Leaves.— Corollas acted on by Heat and Moisture.— Resting-places for Bees and Butterflies when gathering Honey, serving as Wino-s to waft the Flowers up and down in the Air. — Flowers growing in even the most lonely Places have an appropriate Use.— Kindred of the Common Hawkweed. — Where most luxuriant.— Observations suggested by the Lawsoni or Glaucous Hairy ftawkweed, flowering beside Anna-Well, in Westmoreland. — Poetry. . • .115 XIV CONTENTS. GLOUK-FT-OWKR. PAGE Name given by Gcsncr. — ^ Conclusion suggested by Lord Bacon from an attentive Consideration of Flowers. — Tuft of Globc-Flowers growing near Capcl Curig in Nortb Wales. — Surrounding Sce- nery. — iVIountains. — Alpine Lake. — Song of Birds. — Natural Sounds peculiar to Mountainous Coun- tries. — Delight experienced while looking at bro- ken Ground, watered with a Mountain Stream, and covered with Wild Flowers. — Lilies of the Valley growing near Harlech. — Charms of Association. — Importance of uniting Religious Thoughts with Natural Objects. — Woods and Corn Fields fabled to be the Resort of imaginary Beings by Ancient Heathens. — Goodness of the Deity manifested in his Works. — Works of Art cannot yield the De- light which is afforded by the Works of Nature. — Flowers the Joy of Lifaney and Childhood, the Comfort of Old Age. — Lessons suggested by them. — Observations. . . . . .129 WATER LTLY. Derivation of the Name. — Growing profusely in Alpine Lakes. — Extreme beauty of the Flower, and singidar Arrangement of tlie Petals, placed to reflect, like Mirrors, the full Power of the Sun- beams upon the Stamens. — Thick coating of the CONTENTS. XV PAGE under Surface of the Leaves, in order to resist the effect of Water. — Their contrast to those of Land Plants. — Opening and closing of the Water Lily. — Observations on its wonderful Construction. — Poetry. ...... 145 GREAT BINDWEED. Derivation of its Specific Name. — Each Flower telleth its own Tale. — Thought suggested by ob- serving the Bindweed's Place of Growth. — Men- tion of the Mountain-Furze. — Its Adaptation to high Places. — Citadels for Birds and small Ani- mals. — The Bindweed's humble Use. — Singular Construction of the Unicorn-Moth, with reference to the Formation of its Flowers. — Poetry. . 155 PASQUE-FLOWER. Generic Name derived from a Greek word. — Growing on Commons. — Seasons of Flowering. — An Harbinger of Leaves and Flowers, Birds and Butterflies. — Mention of such Constellations as appear in April. — Poetry. — Downy Seeds of the Pasque-flower. — Wonderful Construction of all Seeds. — Component Parts. — Rudiments of the fu- ture Plant contained within the Heart or Corcu- lum. — Poetry. — Atmospheric Air with Heat and Moisture, essential to the Development of Seeds. — Unable to vegetate without them. — Ascent of the XVI CONTENTS. PAUK Stem, and Descent of the Root. — Vernal and Au- tumnal Equinoxes necessary for the dispersing of Seeds. — Various means by which Seeds are con- veyed to distant Places. — Beautiful Construction of different Seeds. — Variety of the Capsules. — Urn- shaped Seed Vessel of the Poppy. — The Seeds of such Plants as grow beside Rivers or Streams, constructed for floating on the Water. — Common, on which the Pasquc-tlower grew again adverted to. — Its local Beauties, Streamlet and Wood. — Effect of Scenery on the Mind. — Closing Observ- ations. . . . . .171 I PLOWEES OF ^!je M^tin ant 35ben S^ouq. MEADOW SAFFRON. 'Tis a lovely thought to mark the hours As they float in the light away, By the opening and the folding flowers, That laugh to the summer's day. Thus has each moment its own rich hue, And its graceful cup or hell : In whose colour'd vase may sleep the dew, Like the pearl in an ocean shell. Hemans. Colcliicum autumnale. Meadow Saffron. From Colchis, on the Euxine Sea, where this plant grows abundantly. Opening Closing At 10 or 11 o'clock. At 3 or 4 o'clock. 2 MEADOW SAFFRON. f) HE country in winch my young ^^ days passed was beautifully va- ried with wooded glens, with quiet valleys, and commons open to the sun, where the cistus and the wild thyme mingled their beauty and their fragrance. But in all and each, you might see a streamlet flashing and eddying in the sunbeams, or hear the pleasant sound of falling waters : some flowed silently adown the meadow banks, and either wasted themselves among the grass, or went on their noiseless way ; others leaped and danced over a pebbly bed, clear, rapid, and transparent ; others again rushed forth from out some stony bank and formed small cas- cades, beside which the bulrush grew, ^vith long tufts of pendant ferns, and the adders- MEADOW SAFFRON. 3 tongue, that drooped its glossy leaves upon the waters. Among these streamlets, there was one in which I especially delighted. It gushed from out two hollow spouts, that projected from a walled bank, grey with lichens, and dotted over with such plants as love both shade and moisture. A cross once stood there, and beneath it an iron cup was chained to a cramp in the old wall, that thirsty men might drink and be refreshed ; while, beneath the cross and cup, a huge stone cistern had been hollowed out to re- ceive the confluent waters of the fountain, and thus an ample supply was always ready, even in the hottest summer months, for the sheep and cattle that resorted thither. This fountain was called Holy-well by the coun- try people, because a monastery had been contiguous. Few resorted thither, for the place was not very easy of access, but he who liked to scramble down the stony bank ^ MEADOW SAFFRON. was well rewarded for his pains, so clear, so cool, and sparkling, looked the bright waters of the bason, as the gushing stream flowed into them, and they in their abun- dance overflowed the stony brink, and hur- ried among sedges and tangled briers, wild flowers, and bending hazels. But though no longer seen, the rippling of the current told of its onward course, till joining an- other streamlet, they flowed silently and deeply through meadows, such as poetic fancy might delight to feign, for never has poet's eye rested on a fairer scene. Among these meadows, and crowding to the streamlet's brink, grow the meadow safirons, or tube-roots. Lovely flowers that open their lilac-coloured or pale purple cone-shaped petals in September ; greeting the sun when he arises, like the garden crocus ; and folding up again about four in the afternoon, when his beams slant MEADOW SAFFRON. 5 athwart the meadows, and tall trees cast their lengthened shadows on the grass. Or- phan flowers, for such they may be called, rising above the ground, without a sheath, a fence, a calyx, or even a leaf to protect them ; and tliis not in the spring, nor yet to be visited by summer suns, but when the nights are cold, and deciduous trees begin to shed their leaves. You would pity that lit- tle plant — you would be ready to exclaim, " Surely it is forgotten amid the immensity of creation." No, my friend. He who sus- tains the firmament, and causes the day- spring to know its place, who spreads abroad the heavens as a tent to dwell in, and kin- dles the suns of other systems, cares for that little flower, preserves and cherishes it. The seed-vessel, which in other plants is open to the influence of light and air, is buried, in the meadow saflron, at least ten inches un- derground, %vithin the bulbous root. The b MEADOW SAFFRON. blossom-tube extends even to the root; the styles, too, are so elongated as to reach the seed-vessel. Why is this? Because the plant blossoms late, and has not time to per- fect its seeds before the setting in of win- ter. The Creator has, therefore, so con- structed it, that this important office is carried on at a depth below the usual ef- fects of frost. But then a difficulty occurs. Seeds, we know, may be perfected, but they will not vegetate at such a deptli. How is this provided for ? Those who visit, in the spring, the meadow beside the streamlet that flows from Hoh^-well, may see, among the grass, numerous egg-shaped capsules, with three blunt angles and several spear- like leaves rising round them. These are the seed-vessels of the colchicum. The seeds that were buried during winter within the root, have now the benefit of light and air ; they ripen about the time of hay- MEADOW SAFFRON. * harvest, when the capsules open longitudi- nally, and the seeds are scattered by the wind. Why so much contrivance for a simple plant ? Why not allow that plant to flower and to perfect its seeds with others of the vegetable tribes ? It seems the will of Him who called this fair world into existence, and replenished it with innumerable instances of his wisdom and beneficence, that, in no place, and at no season, should manifest signs of that beneficence be wanting, to fill our hearts with gratitude. When the beautiful flowers of the spring and summer are withdrawn, when neither a primrose, nor a cowslip, nor yet a ^vild brier, or a honeysuckle may be seen among the grass or in the hedgerows, new flowers appear at intervals, less beautiful, indeed, and blended with much of sadness, for they are the harbingers of shortening days, and 8 MEADOW SAFFRON. coming storms. The meadow saffron is one of tliese. And who, that has a heart to feel, can contemplate this orphan flower, thus rising amid cold winds, and beneath cloudy skies, to clothe our meads with beauty, without a feeling of commiseration for the apparently defenceless flower ? Methinks a voice thus answers low, By IlollweH's deep and silent flow, For not another sound is heard, From wandering bee or joyous bird. And far and wide, o'er dale and hiU, Deep Silence holds her vigils still. list my words, vain erring man ! For thus the gentle voice began. Who thinks, because the sun is low, And deep and dark the torrents flow, And summer's last lov'd rose is gone, And warbling birds from dale or burn. That I, a lone and orphan flower, Child of this drear, and joyless hour, MEADOW SAFFRON. 9 Upspringing in the wild mead lone, From whence all other flowers are gone, Must sink before the chastening blast, When murky clouds are gathering fast. Ah, no ! nor stern winds piping loud, Nor sleet, nor rain, from driving cloud. Can harm the little orphan flower. Which God hath set in this lone hour. That mighty Hand which placed on high The glittering stars that stud the sky ; And those — the seven fair isles of light, So purely, spiritually, bright, Which shine, as if nor care nor sin Could find a place their realms within. That mighty Hand has placed me here. Child of the pale descending year, Witness, that neither sleet nor rain, Nor stern winds eddying o'er the plain, Can harm the little orphan flower, Sustain'd in weakness by His power. THE DAISY. " She lifts up her dewy eye of white, To welcome the rising orb of light ; And when the Spring comes with her host Of flowers, that flower helov'd the most, Shrinks from the crowd that may confuse Her heavenly beauty and virgin hues, The morning star of all the flowers. The pledge of daylight's lengthen'd hours : A simple flower of lowly birth, Yet lingering still to deck the earth, On waste or woodland, rock or plain, When swift has pass'd the floreal train." Bellis perennis. Common Daisy. From bellus, pretty : Daisy, the eye of day. Opening Closing With the sun. When the sun sets. 1 .-V THE DAISY. 'EE modest crimson-tipped flower, • " art thou too," one of " Flora's watches"* noting upon earth her progress in the heavens ? The name of Robin is given to that fond bird, which, as legends tell, covered the innocent children with green leaves, when sleeping their last sleep in the lonely forest ; and to thee, a name is given, which tells of the sports of childhood, and of the love which has been shed upon thee from one generation to another. The daisy, then, is called bain- wort, from the delight with whicli the yoimg are seen to gather it ; the eye-of-day, be- • Linnaeus gave the name of Flora's watches to all such flowers as close and open at certain hours of the (lay. THE DAISY. 13 cause, while other flowers are still sleeping, no sooner does the sun appear on the hori- zon, than the daisy is awake. Who is there that does not love the daisy, la belle Mar- guerite of the French, the meadow-pearl, so called from its pearly look among the grass ; the bonnie gem of the Ayrshire ploughman, that "wee modest crimson-tipped flower," which is associated with all the sports of childhood, and all the delights of home? A thousand indefinable emotions are blend- ed with this simple flower ; it recalls to mind not only the race in the green meadow, or beside the wood walk; the stringing of its emerald-tinted stars, when the petals had fallen off, and the butter-cups and prim- roses, which often lured our steps into the damp grass, or beside the streamlet's brink ; but the home, the home, in which oiu" young days passed. It might have been a mansion or a cottage, but there our father 14 THE DAISY. ^vatchcd over us, and there our mother smiled upon us ; and over its blessed thresh- old, our brothers and our sisters went and came, and we too passed in and out, when roses blossomed beside the open door, or the snow lay cold and white upon the ground. The daisy is the flower which of all others, calls up such wayward fancies : it is among flowers, what the cuckoo is among birds, and he who hears the one, or sees the other in a distant land, might break his heart in long- ing for all the hopes and joys, the comforts and the virtues which are comprised in that one word — home. The daisy, too, is the meekest looking of flowers ; it grows in mead or glade, on commons, or broken ground rough with stones and pebbles, on which few other plants will vegetate. Where the wind has deposited a scanty supply of earth, blown up from the dusty road, or swept from out tlic quarry, there the daisy will THE DAISY. 15 take root, and clothe the arid soil with beauty. There, too, the little hawkweed, concerning which I shall speak elsewhere, will sit beside her ; the one to tell when the sun is about to rise, the other to remind the weary labourer, that he may rest from his work at noon. The daisy has also an- other simple task assigned her, and this she faithfully performs. She not only watches for the sun, when the day begins to dawn, but she tells of coming showers. She folds up her snowy or pink-tinted leaves around the golden disk which they encircle, when journeyhig clouds obscm-e the rays of the warm sun. And thus it often happens, that acres of waving grass, which have looked as if covered with a white sheet, are, by the effect of a coming shower, suddenly restored to their pristine verdure. Poets, in all ages, have loved to speak concerning it. Milton, in his musings by dimpled brook or foun- IG THE DAISY. tain-brim, saw in poet's vision, wood-nymphs, decked with the simple daisy, keeping their merry wakes and pastimes beside the gush- ing waters. And he who hkes to visit the green meadows that stretch away from the ruined towers of Ludlow Castle, may see the daisy on the river brink, where grew her congener, when Milton walked there, and when the spacious halls of the old castle resounded with cheerful voices. At that time the Earl of Bridgewater, Lord President of Wales, presided, with regal dignity ; but the halls of Ludlow Castle are roofless now, and those who ruled, or served witliin them, have long since laid them down, for a far-off waking. Cowper, the melancholy Cowper, who sought to soothe the sadness that consumed him, with seek- ing out the beauties and the wonders of creation, noticed the simple daisy, the emblem of innocence, gathered by young THE DAISY. 17 hands in the spring and playtime of the year, when the villager went forth, with all her train of little ones to seek for king cups in the meadow, and to " prink their hair with daisies." Shakspeare too, and Burns, have spoken of it. Who has not read the lament of Scotland's gifted son, when his ploughshare turned up the modest crimson flower, and laid its beauties in the dust? Chaucer, the father of Enghsh poetry, he who wrote of nature in those stormy times when Hemy the Fourth and Richard battled for the crown of England, loved to look upon this lowly flower, to watch its unfold- ings in the early morning, and its closings up when night drew on. " Of all the floures in the mede, Than love I most these floures of white and rede : Such that men called Daisies iu our town ; To them I have so great aiFection, c 18 THE DAISY. That I get up, and walking in the mede To seen this floure agenst the sunne sprede, When it upriseth early by the morrow, That blissful sight softeneth my sorrow. And when that eve come on, I renne blithe, As soone as ever the sunne ginneth west. To seen this floure, how it well go to reste." Thus, then, is the first darling of the year immortalised. But there are higher thoughts than those of poetic joys or sor- row's, of childhood's sports, or old men's communings, that rise within us, when we look upon the daisy. The daisy, in common with all other plants, contains within her that unchanging suhstance, called carbon, which has never been obtained in a separate state, of which the taste, the smell, and colour are unknown. Infusible, and inde- structible by the action of caloric ; it can, therefore, neither be laid hold of, nor de- tained, when the vegetable in which it THE DAISY. 19 dwells, has fallen to decay; although ex- isting, completely formed, in the tenderest blade of grass, or the smallest flower that opens to the sunbeams. Who, in looking at the simple daisy, could discern the unalterable carbon that dwells within her? who might conjecture that when her flowers are seen no longer, and her leaves have lost their greenness, withering from off* the parent stem, and seeming to be lost for ever, there would arise from out the decaying leaves, as a spirit from its earthly tenement, a gas, a vapour, which the eye may not behold, and which, either hovering around the place from whence it rose, or floating through the air, waits only for the emerging of the daisy, or of some herb or flower, from the parent earth, at the return of spring ? Into these it becomes absorbed, and then again its active mmistry is seen in the developing of leaves and bios- !?0 TUF, DAISY. soms, wliich are destined as the months roll on, to undergo a similar decay and renova- tion. Tims are we instructed by the daisy, in common with her kindred of wood or field, to remember that one of the constituent parts of both animal and vegetable bodies remains unaltered, amid the changes and decompositions which continually take place. It follows, therefore, that though the pins of the mortal tabernacle have been pulled up, and the dust has returned to its kindred earth, from one generation to another, yet that the component parts are still unchanged, ready to enter into a new and glorious com- bination, whenever the fiat of Omnipotence shall call them forth. Man may query in his folly. How can the dead be raised up, with what body do they come, when not a trace of them remains ? To this there is an answer, for the whole creation is filled THE DAISY 21 with emblems. Invisible things, that relate especially to our present state of being, are made known by the things that are ; even the shrubs and flowers which grow beside our path-way, are faithful monitors, and, either in their decay or renovation, suggest to us thoughts of hope or consolation. Most of them, when months have done their work, grow weak in their decrepitude, and yielding no longer flowers, nor yet leaves, with which to gladden the place where they have grown, die down into the earth. Still they are not lost, for again upspringing from the root or seed, the same plant apparently, though not the same, is seen, as if rejoicing in the con- sciousness of its new existence. The young herb or flower, that thus opens to the sun, sparkling Avith the dews of morning, and fresh from out its earthly bed, bids the passer-by not to sorrow for those who are departed, as one who has no hope, but rather 22 THE DAISY. to see in its beauty, and its freshness, the emblem of their rising up. Mourn not then, child of sorrow, As one who has no hope ; But from each fair flower horrow Thoughts, with thy grief to cope. When stormy winds were sweeping O'er paths by mortals trod ; These little flowers were sleeping In peace beneath the sod. A voice thou hearest never, But by its strong might known : On mountains brown with heather, In valleys reft and lone. Call'd forth each fair flower sleeping, Where crushing rains have been ; Or fierce tornadoes sweeping. Have marr'd the sylvan scene. THE DAISY. 23 Now list ! the wood-lark singing, The murmur of the rill ; And lo ! sweet flowers are springing Beside thy pathway still. And thus, for Christ's dear sake, ' The lost, the lov'd shall come ; When speaking thunders wake The death clods of the tomb. PURPLE SANDWORT. Among the loose and arid sands, The humble Arenaria creeps ; Slowly the purple star expands, But soon within its calyx sleeps. And those small bells so lightly ray'd With young Aurora's rosy hue, Are to the noontide sun display'd, But close their folds against the dew. Smith. Arenaria rubra. Purple Sandwort. From the arid, sandy places, in which the Arenaria grows. Opening Closing In fine weather. When the sun declines Early. From 4 to 6. 26 PURPLE SANDWORT. 'HE lark and the purple sandwort are inseparably connected in the herdsman's calendar. When the modest little flower opens her petals in the sunny morning, the lark springs from his nest in the wild heath, arid pours forth his full tide of song, to meet the rising sun. She, too, seems to look after him, as if she rejoiced in the opening day, though she has no voice with which to join the universal chorus that bursts forth from every crea- ture in wood or field. Abroad at such an hour in the stillness and the loveliness of the early dawni, when not even the wakeful labourer is moving, when no curling smoke ascends from the cottage chimney, nor are there any sounds of busy hfe to break upon PURPLE SANDWORT. 27 the quiet of the scene, how solemn, how ex- hilarating are the feelings of the mind ! All then is still, as regards the busy, bustling concerns of men. But the hum of insects is abroad, early birds start forth from their coverts in woods and hedges, the gush of the rill, wliich, although it never ceases, is scarcely audible at a later hour, is now heard, as it goes sounding on its pebbly bed, bor- dered with ferns and flowers, while the night breeze is still lingering among the bushes with a pleasant rustle. Sandworts, whether stationed as the one which Linnaeus added to the horologe of Flora, on sandy plains or arid corn-fields, whether gro\\ing on mountain-tops or by the wood side, uniformly illustrate the beau- tiful arrangement that prevails throughout the vegetable kingdom. The sea-sandwort, as its name indicates, is restrained to sandy places on the coast, or to salt-water meadows. 28 PURPLE SANDWORT. among which the sweet-scented southern- wood and the ladies'-cushion are conspicuous. The plantain-leaved prefers the shelter of moist woods, in company with the lesser stitchwort, and blue forget-me-not, among moss and ferns, on those green and shady banks, which are rendered continually damp by the little streamlets that flow adown them. The thyme-leaved sandwort affects, on the contrary, high and windy places. It delights to open its small white solitary flowers to the full glare of day, and may be seen on cottage roofs or garden walls, or in sandy and dry places, where almost every other plant, except the stonecrop and the nailwort, or perchance the little chickweed, refuses to vegetate. The botanist seeks in vain to find the media, or the vernal, grow- ing on cottage roofs or walls. The one thrives only in pastures at a short distance from the sea, while the vernal sandwort is PURPLE SANDWORT. 29 found in open places, where the reindeer lichen, the wild thyme, or the stonecrop covers the scanty soil. It may be gathered in the neiglibourhood of Llanberis and Craig Lochart, beside the gushing waters of Holywell, and generally in the northern counties. It is seen likewise on the rubbish of old lead mines, for the Creator of the vernal sandwort has imparted to it the pe- culiar property of resisting the deleterious effect of metallic oxides.* Seeds blown at random on those refuse heaps, perish in the course of a short time; vegetable life cannot exist in the baneful atmosphere that per- vades them ; but those of the vernal sand- wort have scarcely rested there before they spring forth, and hence it happens not un- frequently that small patches of vegeta- * This curious fact was communicated by the Rev. S. Pike Jones, author of " Botanical Tour,'" noticed in " Withering's Arrangement," vol. ii. p. 552. 30 PURPLE SANDWORT. tion are seen on the scorched and arid blocks. Very dissimilar is the habitat of the fine- leaved sandwort. This plant, unlike its re- lative, the vernal, seems unable to endure the slightest atmospheric impurity. It grows in sandy meadows and pasture-grounds, and no where more profusely than in the corn- fields that border Triplow Heath, where the purest air of heaven blows fresh and free. Malvern Chase is another of its favourite haunts : there its delicate white flowers are so numerous as to resemble a panicle ; it is seen also among the stones and rubbish of old quarries, and on rocks open to the sun, where it frequently attains to the al- titude of eight or nine inches. The moun- tains of Fifeshire shelter, likewise, another member of this unassuming family — the level-topped sandwort. Beauties of no or- dinary kind are obvious in this little jDlant. PURPLE SANDWORT. 31 The root is zigzag, the better to ent^vine itself in the interstices of the rocks or stones among which it grows, and to ch'aw from thence all the moisture which heavy night- dews or passing showers impart to the thirsty soil. The delicate and slender leaves are smooth, erect, and permanent, while the taper-pointed calyx-leaves are remarkable for the great breadth of their ivory -like lateral ribs. The seeds when ripe are beau- tifully toothed ; they look like wheels sup- ported on a slender stalk. And as the level- topped sandwort grows on the mountains of North Wales, so does the fringed sandwort affect those of Ireland. It has been gathered from the Hmestone chffs of a high mountain adjoining Ben Bulben, in the county of Sligo, where its white and spreading petals often vary the sterile aspect of those high regions. This plant is likewise admirably constructed for its elevated solitude. The 32 PURPLE SANDWORT. flowers are large and of the purest white ; they are elevated on short stalks, and varied with recurved and hoary excrescences, by means of which, every particle of moisture is absorbed for the nourishment of the up- land plant : with the same obvious design the calyx-leaves are oval and somewhat con- cave. The sea spuiTy has a different office to perform from that of the fringed sandwort, which thus vividly adorns the most rocky and sterile regions; it points out the exist- ence of salt-springs, however concealed, for it seems unable to vegetate in soils that are not full of saline particles, and hence its purple flowers grow profusely in salt marshes, and along the coast, where they seem to shed a purple light in beautiful contrast to the bright sparkle of the wild waves' play. The small arctic sandwort is seen, on the contrary, in sterile places, far above the surging of the PURPLE SANDWORT. 33 ocean. It inhabits the highest northen re- gions, and throws a drapery of verdure over the brink of terrific precipices. Enterpris- ing botanists who ascended the lofty range of the Bredalbane sweep of mountains, dis- covered it in places where the foot of man has rarely trod. Professor Hooker, and Mr. Murray, gathered it from off the rugged flank of Ben Lawers. Dr. Greville, in his lonely visit to Craigalleach, found it growing there, and Mr. Carle discovered a profusion of the same plant upon the sunny slope of Maelgreadlia, among huge masses of broken stones. To such animals as frequent the loftiest range of those high mountains, the sandwort may perhaps afford a grateful re- past ; or perchance some alpine bird may stop in its upward flight to gather the fresh seeds. Thus in this small tribe consisting only of twelve families, how obvious is the dissimi- D 34 PURPLE SANDWORT. larity wliich prevails in the places of their growth, and in the offices for which they are designed ! One species, as before mentioned, has the peculiar power of resisting the deleterious effects of the metallic oxides which usually pervade the refuse heaps that are thrown out of old lead mines, and is found in situations usually destructive to vegetable life, where no other plant may grow, and which every winged or creeping thing would otherwise instinctively avoid.* There it may be seen, occasionally, in solitary patches, though less luxuriant than on the lofty heights of Snowdon or Craig Lochart, and, by means of its peculiar properties, some small insects are sustained, and joyous creatures find a store-house and a home beneath the shelter * Mr. Winch remarked this plant on the Wcerdale and Teesdale Moors, at an elevation of one thousand to two thousand feet, and particularly on the rubbish of old lead mines. PURPLE SANDWORT. 35 of its tufted branches ; and there also, they can sip a pure nectarious liquor from out the fountain of its star-like flowers, for the foun- tain, although its secret stream rises from off a deleterious surface, is offered pure to them. Another of the tribe points out the vicinity of salt streams, and thrives only in an at- mosphere filled with saline particles ; where seeds in general cannot vegetate, and where even forest trees are unable to establish themselves : there also it affords, no doubt, both food and shelter to a variety of insects, either winged or creeping, and which, Hke the plant on which they feed, can live only in places where salt abounds. The plantain- leaved is placed by its Creator in woods and wet hedges ; the thyme -leaved grows only on the roofs of houses, on walls, and in sandy and dry places ; the media is seen neither at a distance from the sea, nor yet in places where the dashing of the waves is 3G PURPLE SANDWORT. never heard ; it affects pastures on the coast, and grows in company with the sea sand- wort, on the Shell-coast in the Isle of Sheppy. How beautiful ! how beautiful ! to climb the tower- ing height Of Hymalaya's a^vful brow, begirt with purest light ! If mortal eye might dare to range a field so fair and wide, From zones that skirt the mountain's base, to Sinde's* flowing tide. How beautiful ! how beautiful ! the landscape wide and fair, The high palmetto's graceful shade, the citrons rich and rare ; The noble trees that girt the line, and reaching further still, Proud Europe's stately forest trees, that sweep o'er dale and hill. * Indian name for the Indus. PURPLE SANDWORT. 37 How beautiful ! how beautiful ! the landscape spreading wide, The glorious dome of Heaven on high ; beneath, the azure tide. Whose waves roll on to other realms, where stran- ger trees are seen. And daisy'd meads, with cowslips dight, or vales of living green. But not less beautiful than these, the sights and sounds of spring ; The coming back of summer birds, the joyous songs they sing. The flowers beloved, from year to year, that haunt the self-same spot. The breezy common, wild wood glade, the lonely glen or grot. Each have their place, and those which bloom, in silent glade or glen. Seek not to deck the cottage roof, nor yet the paths of men ; 38 PURPLE SANDWORT. And such as climb the mountain brow, or meet the wild waves' spray, Are never seen to grace the mead, where inland breezes play. Those breezes may, perchance, the seeds, as ran- dom sowers bring, To distant spots, where soothly meet, the gales and showers of spring. They may not thrive, when far away, from each her bank or rill, Where God has set the little flower to work her Maker's will. And thus, the simplest flower that drinks the pearly dew of Heaven, A gift to some wayfaring bird, or insect tribe, is given. A home, a store-house in the wild, or fountain flowing ever,* Where grateful creatures share refresh'd, the love that faileth never. * Water plant. 4v ^' GHoliloll HnUfxi.ad ft Ml r \a;__ ..If lor- -1 WOOD SORREL. The leanings Of the close trees o'er the brim Of a I sunshine haunted stream, Have a sound beneath their leaves. Elizabeth B. Barrett. Oxalis ascetosella. Wood Sorrel. The generic name is derived from a Greek word signifymg sharp, in allusion to the acidity of its leaves. Opening Closing At sunrise. At sunset. 78 WOOD SORREL. HOSE who delight to moraHse beside clear streamlets, leaping and sparkling from among the sheltering embrace of woods, may visit the vale of Dudcombe, contiguous to the old road from Stroud to Cheltenham, beside the an- cient moss-grown fence of Panslodge Wood. I have seen many lovely spots ; with their glens, and familiar walks ; but none more deserving of remembrance than the vale of Dudcombe, embosomed amid hills and shady coverts, among which an ample streamlet, goes sounding on its way. Dudcombe was a battle-place in years that are gone. There, tradition says, the fierce Danes and Saxons had many deadly conflicts, when struggling to possess or to retain the ample hunting- WOOD SORREL. 79 grounds and thickly-wooded valleys that enriched the country of the Dobuni. In still remoter ages, the Romans entrenched at a short distance, and when their sons had gained a settlement in Britain, spacious villas arose upon the site of those rude vil- lages in which our ancestors had dwelt. But my thoughts are not with scenes of rapine, I would rather speak concerning the well- head of that clear stream, whose mellow voice is heard far down the valley, even when its course is concealed by the droop- ing branches of such trees as border its rapid course. Mosses, damp with glistening spray, throng and crowd around the old stone trough, into which the waters leap from out the rocky bank. Tufts of ferns and hart's-tongue bend into the stream, when, flowing over the old trough, they form a small lake, which often reflects the summer moon, and the quivering branches 80 WOOD SORREL. of young beeches wliicli cast their shadows on tlie pathway leading to the depth of the rarely-trodden valley. On either side the streamlet's course, grow the golden saxi- frage, and wild white sorrel, earliest children of the year ; companions often of the prim- rose and the snowdrop, the cowslip and wild hyacinth. GUmpses, however distant and often vanishing, of scenes and objects en- deared by remembrances associated with the kindhest feelings of our nature, will ever rise upon the mind more vividly, perchance, when the every- day occurrences of life are no longer blended with the harmonies or sublimities of nature. In proportion as sweet and soothing pictures of green and pastoral valleys, bright flowers, and gushing waters are no longer present to the view, does that " inward eye which is the bliss of solitude,"* open on the miseen beauties of ♦ Wordsworth. WOOD SORREL. 81 that world which is absent from the out- ward. Memory still haunts that green and wooded valley, with its sounding streamlet, and song of birds answering one the other ; and while thinking of the mossy well-head, with its ferns and flowers, I would take up the language of the muse of Keble, and point out to those who love lone places, cheered with mosses and wild flowers, " Lessons sweet of spring returning," with which the beautiful solitudes of Nature are blended. For there ever breathes a soft- ening and consoling influence from amid such scenes, ministering, however feebly, to our mental sorrows, and imparting, it may be, a sacred calm and resignation to the bur- dened and oppressed among hfe's pilgrims, while it tends to exalt or to refine the re- joicing spirit. Keble, perchance, has visited that spot. G 82 WOOD SORREL. His brother is, or was, the pastor of a near village ; and I have pleased myself with thinking, that from beside the gushing streamlet, where it flows from the rocky bank into the old stone trough. Nature's poet has gazed upon the lone and wooded valley with its precipitous and sunny din- gles. Poetry is one of heaven's choicest gifts ; and thrice happy is the poet, who, led by his Christian feeling, and the dis- position of his mind, considers Nature in all her beautiful changes, and associates with her productions, thoughts of peace and purity. To him the gushing rivulet speaks in language inaudible to the dull ear of common observation; the rich hues of evening have a voice which the mind of the Christian poet only heareth, and in the dewy freshness of the misty dawn, and the " rich morning and silent evening lights," are joys to him with which a stranger inter- meddleth not. WOOD SORREL. 83 And tliose little flowers which grow there, beside the waters, have they no language in which to body forth the wonders of their creation : speaking to the mind concerning the tale which each one telleth of things hidden from the eye of him who cares not for them ? Assuredly they have. And the botanist, as well as poet, has his own peculiar sources of delight. Wherever his wanderings may conduct him, amid the lone- liness and greenness of a secluded valley, over moorlands, or through cultivated fields, he is equally at home. In all the changes of the seasons, and in every vicissitude of climate, he meets with friends, whom suc- cessive years have brought to his acquaint- ance, and who, though silent to the casual observer, are ever eloquent to liim. The ^\'ild sorrel is a favourite among ma- tin flowers, because its place of growth is ever amid scenes to which the mmd recurs 84 WOOD SORREL. with unwearied delight. Two only oi" the tribe are known to botanists. One, our own wild sorrel, expanding its large white petals, beautifully veined with purple, along the borders of ancient woods, by streams, and on heaths. The other, with small yel- low blossoms, preferring waste and stony places, and the sides of mountains. Unwilling to speak again concerning the beautiful conformation of roots and leaves, flowers and their calices, which are con- spicuous in different plants ; of their air- vessels, and sap-vessels, and the colours and the fragrance by which they are distin- guished ; I shall revert solely to the curious fact, that as white is peculiarly calculated for reflecting heat, such flowers as open early in the spring, or are assigned to damp and shady places, are uniformly invested in this pure and simple colour. The com- mon snow-drop, white archangel, wood ane- WOOD SORREL. 85 mone, lily of the valley, and wood sorrel, offer familiar instances. Light shades of rose and azure, and various tints of yel- low, are also common to the spring. Sum- mer flowers, on the contrary, are generally of bright hues. He who passes through a corn-field often observes with pleasure the purplish red flowers of the corn-cockle, to which is given the elegant name of Agro- stemma, from two Greek words, signifying a field and coronet, as if the garland of the field. Among the standing corn also, uprises the red poppy, from which the drapery bee cuts the hangings of her cell. Nor less obvious are the large yellow flowers of the corn-marigold, giving a brilliancy to the fields, and following the smi's course with miwearied assiduity ; the charlock, too, or wild mustard, with its bright yellow petals, cheering the traveller when hasting to shel- ter himself from a coming shower, with 8G WOOD SORREL. the thought of sunbeams breaking from among the driving clouds. So sun -like is the effect produced by the glow of that bright ilower. Among the standing corn, and contrasted with the rich brown ears, the cjanus, or corn-flower, has its own pe- culiar beauty, a coronet of sky-blue florets, every floret a fairy vase, in the depth of which is secreted a sweet nectar for bees and butterflies. This flower is named Cya- nus, after a young devotee of Flora, who de- lighted to linger in the fields, and to weave garlands of richly tinted flowers. And those flowers common to the summer months uni- formly absorb the sunbeams without re- flecting them in any considerable degree. Its own pure tint, therefore, may be as- sociated vvdth the wild wood sorrel, as af- fording a sure indication of the season of its flowering, and place of growth ; an in- dication which never fails, wherever the eye WOOD SORREL. 87 of the botanist is able to observe the na- tural growth of plants in wild and uncul- tivated regions, as affording, also, one of those interesting facts which has an especial reference to the often repeated thought that every plant has some truth to enforce, which the wise would do well to learn. Eloquently, and yet most truly, has some talented writer, when referring to the lec- tures of that poet, whose sacred melodies are associated in my mind with Dudcombe's streamlet, and matin flower, spoken of the frequent reference made by the Redeemer to his works, while instructing his disci- ples ; of the soothing influence, too, which they seemed to impart to his own feelings. Our Lord, said he, uniformly availed liimself of natm-al objects in his teaching, — the lily that neither toiled nor spun ; the field white to harvest ; the seed sown by the husband- man ; the sun reddening the western clouds ; 88 WOOD SORREL. the fig-trCe and the mustard-tree, the herbs of the field and the birds of the air, all mi- nistered to the holy lessons which he taught. Our Lord loved rural scenes and rural life. The house of Bethany overlooked a deli- cious landscape ; He wandered among corn- fields ; He sat down by the wells ; He fed multitudes in places where there was much grass ; He meditated in a garden during his life ; He was buried in one after his death. What do we learn from this practice of our Master ? We learn that the retirements of nature are calculated to cherish or to restore that sweet composure of the thoughts, which is the charm, as it ought to be, the dis- tinction, of the religious character. Even after His resurrection, a hallowed with- drawal of Himself from the tumult and stir of active life, became conspicuous. It was along the still path of the village of Em- maus, that the declining sunset reflected the WOOD SORREL. 89 footsteps of the Holy Traveller, with the sorrowing disciples. Nature seemed to be thus presented to compose and soothe the heart, though not to engage it.* * Observations on the Lectures of Professor Keble considered, Avith a particular reference to some of the Latin poets. " Frazer's Magazine," August, 1844. EVENING PRIMROSE. Fair flower, that shun'st the glare of day, Yet lov'st to open, meekly bold, To evening's hues of sober grey, Thy cup of paly gold. I love at such an hour to mark Thy beauty greet the night-breeze chill, And shine, 'mid shadows gathering dark, The garden's glory still. For such 'tis sweet to think the while, When cares and grief the breast invade, Is friendship's animating smile In sorrow's darkening shade. Barton. (Enothera biennis. Evening Primrose. From two Greek words, one signifying wine, the other im- bued with it : the root having a vinous scent when dried. Opening Closing At sunset. At 5 or 6 in the morning. 9^ EVENING PRIMROSE. 2K f^' BROAD when evening has closed .'' in, and cfiant trees, shone on by the bright moon, cast their strange mysterious-looking shadows on the grass; when the bat is wheeling by, and the glow- worm with her tiny lamp is seen progressing through the grass : abroad at such an hour, who could recoginse in the deep glen or quiet valley, in the still meadow or heathy moor, those bright scenes which delighted him but a short time before? How still, how solemn, and yet how peaceful is the witch- ing hour of deep midnight, when the glo- rious stars are keeping their watch on high ; and when the earth is covered as with a mantle of silence and of obscurity ! I have often looked within the garden range for EVENING PRIMROSE. 93 flowers that grew there in all their fragrance and their beauty before the sun had set, but have not found them ; and so it is in the green meadow, or beside the road. You may not see a daisy in the grass, nor yet a single hawkweed on the bank ; the bril- liant goat's-beard has folded up its petals, and the dandelion, that loves to cover the interstices of broken pavements with its ample disks, is no longer -visible. Night with her broad shadows has not veiled them, for there are flowers which yet look the pale moon in her face, and some few there are, that open only when the day has closed in. They open, that such insects as love the night, warmly-coated moths, and ephe- mera, may drink and be refreshed, when all other vegetable fountains have ceased to flow, or when the guardian petals, by which they are surrounded, have folded up to keep them safe from all intruders. I 94 EVENING PRIMROSE. have seen the evening-primrose, or the even- ing-star, as the plant is sometimes called, gradually expand her primrose-tinted leaves, looking fairer, and becoming larger, and per- fuming the vagrant breezes as they passed, while other flowers were closing ; till at length when the moon had risen, or, per- haps, only stars looked down from their high stations in the heavens, this fragrant flower had tluro\vn open all her stores, and busy creatures might be seen repairing thither as to a nightly banquet. Those who pass tlurough one of the wildest portions of the vale of Clwyd, may see this favourite flower growing in great luxuriance, and attaining to the height of several feet, on the road-side between Denbigh and Ruthin. It was seen there, by a youthful botanist* who has ceased from among the living, during the summer solstice, when the nights are neither light * Mr. W. Christy. EVENING PRIMROSE. 95 nor dark ; and the spot wherein it grew was much to be remembered, for the moon was full, and the mists of night veiled, as with a light transparent vapour, all the loveHest features of the landscape. The river was heard to rush along, as with a congregated roar, the rocky banks and trees assumed a sterner character, and far away, for pro- minent objects could be dimly seen in the bright moonbeams, uprose, as from a sea of vapour, the deserted walls of old Ruth- ven's haunted tower ; but no one could dis- cern, in looking at them, that the halls were lonely now, or that the night-mnd was free to find an entrance through the broken win- dows. They stood forth as if restored to their ancient state, for the friendly moon- beams showed not the rents of ruin. Here then, in one of the loveliest portions of the vale of Clwyd, grew the evening primrose, with its fragrant and large yellow flowers. 96 EVENING PRIMROSE. around which night-moths and ephemera were gathering. Dusky looking, yet beau- tiful and evanescent creatures, often the birth of the noon-day, attaining their full maturity at that still hour, when the even- ing primrose opens her yellow-tinted petals, as if to welcome back the twihght ; a star of earth, shining alone for them, and guiding their insect steps or wings, when other flowers have folded up their petals, and are gone to rest. She awaits the moment when the sun withdraws his beams, for the sinking of his orb behind the hills, while yet a golden light is seen to linger on their heights, and gorgeous clouds are waiting in the place of his withdrawing ; the sinking of that orb is a sure signal for the opening of her fra- grant corolla. Unlike all others that watch for his arising, or seem to follow his go- ings in the heavens with devoted fondness, this nun-like flower opens not till he is EVENING PRIMROSE. 97 gone. She loves to keep her vigils by dim twilight, or beneath the beams of the cold moon, and then, as if like Charity, doing her good deeds in secret; when all other eyes, save those of Him who made her, are closed in sleep, she gives both food and a sweet nectareous juice to many weary ones, who would perish but for her timely aid. He who watches by the evem'ng primrose, when the night is dark and sultry, when neither moon nor stars are visible, and wayfaring creatures could not find their way to her hospitable petals, may see a phosphoric light gleaming from this favourite flower. WTien not a tree nor rock can be discerned, nor yet the road, though known, might be safely travelled, she emits a pale light from all her himdred flowers, and looks as if illu- minated for a holiday. You may then see, more clearly than even in the bright moon- shine, how the stem, and leaves, and petals, H 98 EVENING PRIMROSE. arc covered with grateful creatures, some returning from the lighted petals, where they have fed, or been refreshed, at the vegetable fountains, to take their rest among the leaves ; others hurrying up the stems ; and others again assembled in the corollas.* All, and each, are either thickly coated, or else enwrapped in down or feathers, the better to resist the heavy dews of night. The same extraordinary phenomenon has likewise been observed in other phosphoric plants, and in certain mosses that grow witliin the moist and cavernous recesses of Dartmoor ; in places where Druid steps have trodden, and where our remotest an- cestors found a home.f Did we know, con- * Stated on the authority of Dr. Jcniier and Mr. Pursli, the latter referred to in " Withering's Arrangement of British Plants," vol. ii. p. 473, edition of 1830. t This curious fact is noticed by the Rev. R. Park Welland, and adverted to in "^ Witliering's Arrange- ment," vol. ii. p, 473. EVENING PRIMROSE. 99 cerning those plants and mosses, the little which has yet transpired with regard to the evening primrose and its nightly visitors, we should, no doubt, discover that the phos- phorescent light in each, is kindled with the same beneficent design ; that it shines forth to answer the purpose of a lamp on the lone heath or in the cavern, to guide the steps of fainting insects to their nightly food. I have looked on those insects, either winged or footed, when, in the early morn- ing, they have been fomid asleep among the grass and shrubs ; and while looking at them I have thought, though man cares not for such feeble creatures, and might crush them as the moth, their Maker cares for them. He has made them perfect in all their parts, it may be to teach us, that He who thus provides for the wandering night ephemera, giving to them a fountain and a light when 100 EVENING PRIMROSE. the sun withdraws his rays, watches over even the minutest concerns of life. Oh ! the spirit of Christ is grieved, When man doth take no heed Of the wild, yet wondrous things, Which he giveth for an hour of need. Let the lone and weary wanderer, Who hath no dwelling nigh. Graze on this nightly flower, While the stars keep watch on high. Mark well each brimming fountain. The light in each fairy hall ; The joyous things that hasten To the banquet spread out for all. Let him ask, if indeed it can be, That the Power whom none may scan, Careth more for these feeble beings. Than his trusting creature, Man ? CHICKWEED. Heaven wills, that simple things should give Lessons to teach us how to live. Stellarm media. Common Chickweed. From Stella, a star : descriptive of the star-like, or radiated appearance of the blossom. Opening Closing At 9 in the morning. At noon. 102 CHICKWEED. ? WEARY man toiled up the rocky ' side of the Table Mountain at the & Cape, resolved to ascend her loftiest elevation, and to look down on the strange landscape which lay extended at its base. Strange, no doubt to him, where date and palms, orange-tree and plantains, lifted their tall heads among fields of pulse or sugar- canes, who had seen only the corn-fields and pasture-lands of his own comitry. That weary man was Henry Martyn, and when he sat dowai to rest in the steep ascent, sad at heart, and ready to faint with think- ing of the mighty undertaking in which he was engaffed, a httle flame-coloured flower of extraordinary beauty met liis eye : it CHICKWEED. 103 grew in a small hollow among rough stones, sheltered from the sun's fierce rays, and played on by the fresh mountain breezes as they passed. " That little flower," wrote H^nry, in a letter to a friend, " made me forget my sorrows : thoughts of hope and peace, of gladness and security, were awak- ened by it, and I went on my way re- freshed." The remembrance of tliis anecdote arose within me, when looking on the dismantled walls of a once spacious dwelling, I observed the wonderful construction of the common chickweed, which had rooted itself iii the interstices. There its tiny blossoms un- folded among tufts of lichens and small ferns, and presented a continued repast to such wayfaring birds as passed that way in their flight to the spacious apple orchards that covered the slope of the green valley. There, too, its native character remained 104 CHICKWEED. unaltered, cither by soil or climate, a mo- dest little flower which few might care to look upon, if they had not learned some- what concerning its beauty or its worth, and how the hand of Him who made it, has stamped upon its pale green leaves, cha- racters which those who love to hear and speak of Him may read, and which in reading, will make their hearts to glow with- in them. What sees the stranger in passing by ? A small and insignificant looking weed, covering the top of an old wall, or spring- ing from interstices where the mortar has fallen out between the stones. What sees the botanist in this simple weed ? An ob- ject of great interest ; formed especially for the place which it is designed to fill ; a me- mento of the care of its Creator, and not of the plant only, but of numerous winged creatures that depend upon the ripening of its seeds for their support. Winds may CHICKWEED. 105 shake it in passing by, and heavy storms may beat upon it, but there it grows, re- newed from year to year, and covering the herbless stones with a pleasant verdure. Yet not as a single plant, opening at one season or period of the day, and failing at another ; each of its polished stems upholds a bud, in different stages of verdure or of decay. In some, the starry white corollas are fully exposed to the sun ; in others, which also stand upright, the white petals have fallen off, and the four-sided and light green capsules appear conspicuous ; in others, again, the stalk assumes a curved form, and the capsule bends towards the earth. Look at it when thus reversed, what a curious shape ! what a wonderful arrangement ! Growing frequently on the summit of high walls, or in places exposed to fierce winds and heavy showers, a peculiar provision is required for the protection of the seed. 106 CIIICKWEED. Observe, therefore, a small penthouse formed by the capsule, for the capsule in this plant is permanent ; it may not wither and fall off like that of th^ poppy oi" coni-flower, which does not require its assistance. Thus pro- tected, the seed-vessel continues reversed during a few days ; at the end of which the stem straightens, and uplifts the seed- vessel to the influence of the sun. Here, then, another process is discoverable : the capsule splits into six small di^^sions at the top ; through which both air and light are freely admitted to the enclosed seeds. When their active ministry is finished, and the seeds are fully ripe, the stem bends again, and empties, as from an urn, the innumer- able seeds upon the earth. Thus does every single stem change its position at least four times, to suit the different stages of growth or of decay. Upright, when first the sim- ple flower is unfolded to the light, with its CHICKWEED. 107 tiny mirror-like petals, so arranged as to catch and to reflect every wandering sunbeam. Bending, when the perfecting of the seeds seems to require a downward position ; or, perhaps, if it be allowable to hazard a con- jecture, which, as regards the vegetable eco- nomy in this respect, must be conjectural, the capsule is reversed because the plant grows on dry places, where little moisture can be imbibed by the roots, in order that its vessels may draw in more copiously the heavy night- dews which descend at the season of its flowering. But when the influence of the sun is especially required to ripen the fully- formed seeds, the stem gradually straightens, and the heav}^ laden seed-vessel is held up to catch its beams. Thus it remains till again gradually resuming its downward po- sition the seeds are deposited in the earth. Who, that looks upon one of these small seeds, brown, and rough, and thickly coated. 108 CHICKWEED. could imagine that a plant ^vould emerge from out of it, perfect in every part, and having a most curious and elaborate ma- chinery, adapted to all the purposes of vege- table life ? one set of vessels constructed for drawing up moisture from the roots, or for imbibing it from the atmosphere, and for diffusing it in the character of sap, to every little leaf, and bud, and blossom : another set, by means of which greenness is given to the leaf, and whiteness to the flower, nourish- ment is impai'ted to the opening bud, and the mysterious process of its growth, and its perfection, is carried on ; that there are also within the stalk and stem, a multitude of spiral wires, in order that the stem may bend when needed, or recover its rigidity, when the purpose of its bending is accom- plished ? Yet these, and very many more, are curiously enwrapped within the simple chickweed ! CHICKWEED. 109 This little plant is another of Flora's watches ; and here, also, the spiral wires come in aid. By means of them, the starry- white corolla opens early in the morning, and closes about four in the afternoon. The upper leaves too, which grow sitting in pairs on the stem, opposite one the other, and from the bosom of which issue the branches and flowering stalks, each of the latter bear- ing one bud, close over them, when the night draws in, and form a canopy impervious to the rain ; insects are thus also effectually ex- cluded, and the tender flower sleeps securely till the morning. Sleep, how wonderful it is ! What a mighty change passes over this busy, bustling world, during those darksome hours when all the concerns of hfe are still ! The heart of that man must be insensible to the finest emotions of our natm-e, who does not feel somewhat of awe steal over him when abroad at that still season : alone, a 110 CIlirKWEED. conscious and a waking being, wliile every thing, whetlier animate or inanimate, is slumbering around; — men upon their beds, unconscious even of their names, — the cattle sleeping on the grass, — the birds among the branches, — all humming insects still; — no sound except the torrent's rush, or the nmr- niur of the night wind in the trees ; or, perchance, at intervals the startling whoop of the solitary owl. Plants, too, are sleep- ing. Flowers that shone forth in all their fragrance and their loveliness when the sun was high, fold up their petals, and are often so enwrapped by the leaves as to become invisible. The heads of others are inclined towards the earth ; and not a few close their beautiful corollas, as if to protect them from the depredations of such insects as love the night. CHICKWEED. Ill " Averse from evening's chilly breeze, How many close their silken leaves, To save the embryo flowers I As if, ambitious of a name, They sought to spread around their fame. And bade the infant buds proclaim The parent's valued powers." All this is done by means of the spiral fibres ; and their agency is equally conspicu- ous in causing the flowers to shut up be- fore the coming of a storm. He who passes by, and sees the numerous little white co- rollas of the chickweed fully expanded, may go on his way in safety : he need not fear the coming of a storm, for some hours at least. If, on the contrary, the flowers do not open freely ; if the guardian leaves, still seem unwilling to forego their watch, let him hasten home, for the rain will soon fall. The effect in both cases is produced by the extreme susceptibility of the spiral fibres, 112 CIIICKWEED. and their liability to be affected by atmo- spheric changes. There grows not, there blooms not, on mountain, rock, or wall, A choicer flower than this, which men the chick- weed call. A weed for chicken truly, for " little birdies," too, Who trust their Maker's bounty, the dreary winter through. Look on that chickweed, mourner, and list the grateful strain Of her who sings to praise Him, 'mid driving wind and rain. That warbling creature hath not, nor fields, nor hoarded corn ; And yet she sweetly singeth, the leafless boughs among. Her clear voice is telling from out the lonely tree. That He who feeds the lone one doth surely care for thee. CHICKWEED. 113 Her plumes are rudely ruffled, the day is nearly gone, But she heeds not, she fears not, and still she singeth on : weep not thus, poor mourner ! the storm shall pass away ; For me sweet spring is coming, for thee a brighter day. MOUSE-EAR HAWKWEED. " See Hieracium's various tribe Of plumy seed, and radiate flowers, The course of time their blooms describe, And wake or sleep appointed hours." Hieradum pilosella. Mouse-ear Hawkweed. From a Greek word, signifying a hawk ; and suggested by the mixture of black and yellow in some species, resembling the colour of a hawk's eye. Opening Closing At 8 o'clock. At 4 or 5 o'clock. 116 MOUSE-EAR HAWKWEED. • HE hawkweed. What a lovely little flower ! This, too, is one of Flora's ^^;:'; watches ; it often grows on a dry bank, in company with the scarlet i^impernel, and the small blue forget-me-not, the wild thyme, and marjoram. Bees and butterflies, and " many-coloured things," close and open their bright wings on its golden disk ; they fly away and visit other flowers ; but they soon return, as if unwilling to quit the bur- nished resting-place on wliich they first re- posed. The hawkweed ! what shall I say respect- ing it; or rather, where shall I begin? for it has much of beauty and utility, that ought not to be hastily passed by. Observe its golden-coloured petals. Those petals show MOUSE-EAR HAWKWEED. 117 forth its joy, as Pliny elegantly observed with regard to the blossoms of large trees, in producing which, they seem to vie with one another, seeking apparently to attract the admiration of all who look upon them. In this simple plant the corolla has its own specific use, and is not less distinguished for the delicacy and the brilliancy of its tints, than for the functions which it is designed to fulfil with regard to air and light. Its office is likewise in a great degree analogous to wings, being composed of a variety of small yellow florial leaves, that waft the flower up and down in the air ; it serves also to protect, occasionally, the interior from rain, or ex- cessive heat, to indicate the vicinity of that sweet nectareous juice, from which honey is produced, and to accommodate the ga- therers with a resting-place or shelter, while employed in their grateful labours. Ob- serve, also, the admirable construction of lis MOUSE-EAR IIAWKWEED. the little florets, seated upon one com- mon receptacle, and inclosed in the same calyx. Each of these florets, is embel- lished with an ivory -looking shaft or pillar, passing through a cylinder, which appears as if supported by five recurved pillars, of which the heads or anthers, form the cy- linder, and contain within them a fine and subtile powder. Yet though apparently a subtile powder, the pollen, for so the dust is called, presents, when magnified, an infinite variety of small cases inclosing a still more subtile pow^der ; and not even the flakes of snow, that fall in winter, are more singularly varied. The pollen of the common red crane'sbill, is a perfect glo- bule, that of the marsh-mallow resembles the wheel of a w'atch, in the pansy it is trian- gular, in the narcissus kidney-shaped. But, however, varied or dissimilar, they each re- main entire till acted upon by heat or mois- MOUSE-EAR HAWKWEED. 119 ture, when they suddenly expand, and dis- charge a fine and elastic powder. The powder, when thus disengaged from the anthers, is immediately absorbed into the pointal, and hence the seeds, by a process inconceivable to us, are rendered capable of ripening. Emblem of the pouring forth of mind to mind, the fulness of the one imparted to the other, causing the germ of reason to expand, and the mental faculties to attain perfection. Emblem, too, of the gliding in of wisdom from above, which de- scending like the dew, or imbibed like the subtile vapour that pervades alike the mag- nificent magnoha or the humble hawkweed, calls forth those fruits or blossoms which are peculiar to their tribe. Those wdio care not for the wonders of creation may think tliat flowers which grow on rocks or in desert places, are of little" worth. But it is not so. Even the lone- 120 MOUSE-EAR IIAWKWEED. licst llowtT, the llowcr, perchance, on whicli the eye of man may never rest, sown by the wind on the ledge of some bold precipice or in the far off wilderness, has myriads of active beings swarming round it. Beautilul creatures, likewise, which no human eye may look upon, yet perfect in their kind, are attracted by the shelter which the lone flower yields them, and are nourished by its beauty, rendering in return those treasures beneficial to the plant itself, which would othcnvise continue as unprofitable as hoarded gold to the miser. The months in which the common hawk- weed expands its yellow-tinted petals to the sun are those of beauty and luxuriance. Almost every other flower is then open, and all kinds of insects are abroad. Bees are seen in quest of honey or farina, with 'which to construct their waxen cells ; you may hear their pleasant hum as they hasten MOUSE-EAR HAWKWEED. 121 from one blossom to another, loaded with yellow dust ; gay-coated insects seem dancing on the sunbeams, as if in quest of a per- petual spring ; and butterflies emulate the colours of those splendid flowers, on which they shut and open their gorgeously tinted wings. And yet, though seemingly intent on merely varying their sources of delight, they have all and each, a duty to perform in the magnificent museum which they are designed either to embellish or to benefit. Functions are carried on by them, which, although presented to the senses in their eflFects, the mind is unable to comprehend. And not more truly does one part of an exquisite piece of machinery fit into the other, than the structure of even the smallest flower is adapted to the winged creatures that frequent it ; and those winged creatures to the simple flower, their fit dwelling-place, "The little insect's world of joys or cares." 122 MOUSE-EAR HAWK WEED. The common hawkweed has many kindred. Some grow on mountain tops ; others in quiet valleys at their base ; some hide them- selves among long grass : others, again, love the margin of clear streams. The Al- pine hawkweed will only thrive in moist ffround on the sides of mountains, where streamlets gush forth, and fall with a plea- sant murmur into the vale below ; or else where springs abound, and spread themselves among the herbage, where the foot of the passer by is made wet when he sets it down : although from the dense growth of the short grass, and upland plants, he may not discern the boggy nature of the soil. This species of hawkweed grows, therefore, on the mountain of Ben-na-Caillich, in the Isle of Skye, and on Rhiwr Glyder, about one hundred yards above the Lake of Llyn y Cwm ; those cloud- capt mountains, down the sides of which streamlets ooze forth continuallv. The MOUSE-EAR HAWKWEED. 123 creeping hawkweed, a less aspiring plant, although it shrinks from the heights of lofty mountains on which tempests beat, and loud winds make their mournful music, often as- pires to somewhat of an elevated station. It has been seen equally on the sides of Fair- field Mountain, near Rydall, in Westmore- land ; as in watery places, beside Coxbench Wood, in Derbyshire. The narrow-leaved, the orange, and the slu'ubby, the rough- bordered, and the wood, the shaggy, and the glaucous, with all their numerous re- latives of heath and field, have each their assigned locality. They are rarely seen in the same place ; or if they grow contiguous, they do not blossom at the same season of the year ; so beautiful and unbroken is the order that ever}^vhere prevails. The narrow-leaved, that lovely mountain plant which tourists delight to gather on the sunny flanks of Dalehead, not far from the 124 MOUSE-EAR IIAWKWEED. waters of Grasmere, flowers in July ; the orange, wliicli unfolds its golden-coloured petals in thf same month, enlivens the depth of solitary woods; the shrubby is seen on w^ood-sides and hedge-banks. The rough - bordered, of which the glaucous under-green of the dark leaves sufficiently distinguishes it, beautifully varies the deep woods of southern Scotland, and those of Perthshire and Durham. The shrubby, which grows generally in the woods of Bri- tain, opens its numerous flowers at seven in the morning, and warns the weary herds- man or woodcutter to rest from his labour, when its petals begin to close at one or two. The wood-hawkweed seems to liiitrer where tlic footsteps of men, great it may be in their day, and renowned in past ages, have once trodden. Fine specimens have been gathered on the old Roman camp, near Newberry, and from off the walls of Dud- MOUSE-EAR HAWKWEED. J25 ley Castle, while the Lawsoni, or glaucous hairy hawkweed, with its fringed leaves and large and handsome lemon-coloured flowers, still grows upon the rocks beside the rivulet between Shap, and Anna-well, in Westmoreland. They grew there, at least one hundred years since, when my ancestor gathered their bright flowers from off the margin's brink, and heard the pleasant mur- mur of the streamlet, which flows, as then it flowed, reflecting and partaking the love- liness of all around. Thomas Lawson has long passed from among the li%ang, but tufts of the small flower that bears his name are growing still in the same sequestered spot. It may be that on such a spot, so lone and rarely visited, some wanderer might thus apostrophise the simple hawkweed : 126 MOUSE-EAR II.WVKWEED. What dost thou here in this wild wild spot, Where no curling smoke is seen Wreathing at eve froqi the turf-cutter's cot, Nor children's steps have been 1 The cry of the curlew alone is heard, With the splash of the lonely rill ; But the cheerful song of the wayfaring bird, Soundeth not from the wood-crown'd hill. For no wood-crown'd hill witli its waving trees, Hath a place on the wide wide plain ; Nor the whispering voice of the evening breeze, Murmurs low 'mid the ripening grain. But the gusty wind is careering now, And the storm-clouds are driving fast ; And responds the creak of an old oak bough, To the roar of the angry blast. Methought as I stood in this moody eve. While the storm-clouds were riding high. That words from the lone flower seem'd to breathe As the breath of the summer wind's sigh. MOUSE-EAR HAWKWEED. 127 Ask me not, why alone in this wild wild spot, Where no blossoming roses smile, My days glide on, and my lonely lot Seems strange in the sea-girt isle ! Rather seek to know, why a simple flower Mid the stones of the heath must remain ; Where the winds are loud, and the pitiless shower Beateth oft on the wide, wide plain. My lot is low, but the stones of the moor. Were my cradle when life was young ; The dew bathed me oft in its fountain pure. And the soft wind my lullaby sung. I am part of a whole, a link in the chain That bindeth creation together ; The same dew, the same air, the same light must sustain Man's life, as the brown mountain hether. No flower of the meadow, no herb of the field. No tree from the wood might replace me ; My duty is small, yet the service I yield. Is too great, for thy hand to displace me. 128 MOUSE-EAR HAWK WEED. My haunt is not where the roses bloom, And the nightingale warbles her tale. To cheer the lone depth of the forest gloom, Is mine, or the stone-clad vale. There are dwellers thine eye rarely heedeth. That the blasts of the heath must endure ; They have fears all, or wants all, which needeth A shelter or home on the moor. Then think not the heath-loving flower. Has been placed by her Maker in vain. The weak creatures called forth by His power • It is mine, through His will, to sustain. ,v vjtaSJ^ ,Ha