pore to be found. Thus, there is a ready and unerring character of the genus. The drop of honey lodged in this cavity, is in a singular manner contrasted with the poisonous plant that produces it. Nor are the poisonous qualities of these plants confined to one part; the flowers, leaves, stem, and root, have been found to be equally full of the same pernicious juice.

Buttercups are never found in poor soil or in hilly situations, but in rich valleys, where the grass is luxuriant. The more common of the two frequently met with in the pastures near London, and near the sea-coasts of Scotland, is the bulbous-rooted one, which may be easily recognised by digging up the plant. The root is somewhat like a leek, or a small onion, while the acrid species has a fibrous root, without any bulging. But without digging up the plants, the two sorts may be instantly known by the calyx, or cup, which supports the yellow leaves or petals of the blossoms. This cup has its five leaves upright, or nearly so, in the acrid sort, and bent downwards in the bulbous species. Besides these two, there are several other species, not unlike them in the flowers, but having other peculiarities. Such is the creeping sort, which has large dark-green leaves and creeping roots; the spear-wort, with long leaves; and the goldi

locks, which is slender in form, and grows in woods and lanes. All the species are more or less poisonous, but against them there is a safeguard worthy of notice. Though children so frequently gather the flowers, few, if any, accidents occur, because their acrid, disagreeable taste prevents their being eaten.

It seems likely that the intention of Providence in rendering these poisonous plants so common, was to afford protection to the grasses and other herbage eaten by cattle. Were the whole green sward of the field composed of nothing but grass, it might be eaten so bare as to destroy the roots, and thus produce a scarcity of forage. But the poisonous buttercups being so much mingled with the grass, the cattle are prevented from eating up the latter so as to hinder its increase as the season advances.

The field daisy is not quite so conspicuous as the buttercup, though in some pastures it is so abundant as to render the whole turf gay with its pretty blossoms. The Latins called it bellis, or bellus, as much as to say, "Nice one." With the French and the Italians, it bears the same name as a pearl. Our poet, Chaucer, says, nothing but the daisied fields in spring could take him from his books; that he found that season ever new, and should love it till his heart died.

If we go from the fields to the woods and copses, we find a profusion of flowers. Among these, the primrose, the wood wind-flower, and the blue bell, are the most common, and as these grow more usually in broad patches than in a dispersed manner, they are more likely to attract notice. Let us look a little at each of them.

The primrose is a great and general favourite. Its name is derived from its early flowering. Though in its greatest beauty in May, occasional plants are in flower from Michaelmas, and throughout the winter. The primrose varies in colour from the common pale sulphur yellow to white, on the one hand, and to bright yellow and purple on the other. But the most remarkable variation is in the general flower stalk, or scape. In the common varieties in the woods, the scape is too short to be seen, and hence the individual flowers appear to rise from the bosom of the leaves; yet there always is a scape, however inconsiderable it may be. In the cultivated varieties of the gardens, the scape may be observed from the eighth of an inch long to the length of four, six, or eight inches. purple and other coloured varieties, when the scape rises to the height of a few inches, bearing on its summit from five to seven or nine flowers, are well known

The

under the name of polyanthus, taken from the Greek, for many flowers. It is not, however, a distinct species, but only a variety of the common primrose.

The blue-bell is as much distinguished by its fine odour, as for its beautiful blue colour, and the graceful drooping of the flower-spike. There is a variety with white flowers, but it is by no means common.

The anemone, or wood wind-flower, is very common and pretty, usually white, with a tinge of red or rosecolour on the petals. It has similar acrid qualities to the buttercup, and would prove poisonous if taken into the stomach.

In the hedges, the hawthorn, or May-bush, beautifies every lane, diffusing through the air its

"Fragrance exquisite, as new-mown hay."

But

The varieties of this native tree, which is both ornamental and useful, are not very numerous. some of them are so much admired as to be propagated by grafting, particularly the Glastonbury thorn, which sometimes blows as early as Christmas. The most admired, however, is the rose-coloured one, a very beautiful sort, accidentally discovered a few years ago in a hedge near Perth. The common red variety is very inferior to this in appearance. A double white

one is occasionally seen in the shrubberies of the curious.

the walnut tree. The flowers of the chesnut begin to unfold; and the tulip tree and the mulberry put forth their leaves. Of the shrubbery, the lilac is one of the finest ornaments. Cowper has well traced its varieties.

Prunus spinalis.—BLACKTHORN.

"Various in array, now white,

Now sanguine, and her beauteous head now set
With purple spikes pyramidal; as if set

Studious of ornament, yet unresolved

Which hues she most approved, she chose them all."

As we dwell with delight on the forms and colours of flowers, well may we look upwards, and think of Him who makes

"All nature beauty to the eye."