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 wrhat 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 twro
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 ah1 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 wThich
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, wrhere 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
[i
Live Music Archive
Librivox Free Audio
Metropolitan Museum
Cleveland Museum of Art
Internet Arcade
Console Living Room
Books to Borrow
Open Library
TV News
Understanding 9/11