SKETCHES OF THE LINNEAN SYSTEM

OF BOTANY.-No. I.

WHETHER the eye of man be directed to the heavens or the earth, there is enough to excite his wonder and delight, and to call forth his thankfulness and praise. It matters not whether the mind is occupied by the vast sublimity of revolving spheres, or by the surpassing beauty of a plant or flower since each of the great and small things of creation bears alike this inscription, "I am the handywork of God!" There is a peaceful exhilaration of heart enjoyed by the Christian investigator of the works of creation, favourable to piety. It quickens the eye to perceive what is lovely in the vegetable world; it strews the pathway of the pilgrim to a yet fairer world with flowers, so that he that walks therein, sees continually before him the footprints of his heavenly Father, and goes on his way rejoicing in the beauties around him, as well as in the prospects before him.

Among the varied departments of knowledge and science that teem with interest, botany is one of the most prolific in enjoyments. From the dawn of the year to its decline; from January to December, there is a succession of pleasures, supplied by the continual changes that take place in plants and flowers.

The common observer may walk abroad in January, wrapt up in his winter clothing, without so much as suspecting that a field flower is above the ground; but the quick-sighted botanist will discover, if the month be mild, a primrose here and there, in sheltered situations; and the starry blossoms of the daisy and chickweed will catch his eye, sprinkling his path; while the red

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Botanists have discovered and described about eighty thousand species of plants, and many more are annually added to the list; a fact which shows how widely diversified a field is presented to the student for illustration and research. In the midst of the ocean, man sees beyond the deck of his vessel, and below the sky, only the surface of the green and fruitless" waters, monotonous to the eye and wearisome to the observation. But from the hill top, overlooking a fertile country, he can perceive a rich variety of verdure, all caused by the numberless plants which naturally spring up in the soil, or have been sown and planted by human industry. The numerous varieties of plants which thus present themselves, whereever the eye turns in creation, attract the attention of the most incurious, and give exercise to the thoughts of the contemplative in every walk.

The vegetable creation is obviously a portion of a universally concatenated system, presenting the most striking indications of the wisdom, power, and goodness of the almighty Creator, who has planned and constructed the whole; indications which appear to be so marvellously diversified through every part of the great sphere of human observation, leading to the irresistible conclusion, that such diversity has been partly contrived to awaken admiration; to charm by the display of beauty and glory; to furnish continual subjects for praise; and to elevate the mind, through transitions of fear, wonder, and awe, unto grateful adoration of the Divine beneficence.

The holy Scriptures, by which we are taught that a wise and good God is the author of all the works of the visible creation, call on us to trace his wisdom and goodness in those works in which they inform us that he has manifested his glory. "The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament showeth his handywork," Psa. xix. 1.

Our blessed Saviour says, "Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin. and yet 1 say unto you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." The inference is, that it is God who so clothes the grass of the field," the

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tion being full of wonders, calculated to rouse the mind, to fix our attention, and to elevate the soul to high aspirations towards the great Ordainer and Supporter of the works of creation.

In a former volume of the Visitor, a brief view was given of the orders of the Natural System of Botany, illustrated by descriptions of plants which are classed in these orders. In the papers headed, "The Botanist," in a subsequent volume, was given an outline of the Linnean Classification. It is now proposed to illustrate this classification by descriptive sketches of some of the more common plants which may be met with, either growing wild, or cultivated in the gardens of Britain. Out of eighty thousand species of known plants, four or five thousand of which are natives, it would be impossible to attempt an enumeration; and therefore the proposed sketches will be limited to a few of the plants most commonly to be met with, that the young botanist may be furnished with an easy guide to his preliminary studies in this delightful science.

FIRST CLASS. MONANDRIA.

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In this class are arranged such plants as have only one stamen, as the term Monandria means. It is divided into two orders. 1. Monogynia, containing plants which have only one pistil, as spur flower, (Centranthus ;) glasswort, (Salicornia ;) and marestail, (Hippuris.) 2. Digynia, containing plants with two pistils, as water starwort, (Callitriche ;) and strawberry blite, (Blitum.)

The only very common plant of this first class is the red-spur flower, (Centranthus ruber,) which may be found in almost every garden, of various shades of red, crimson, pink, scarlet, and sometimes nearly white, or rather yellowish white. It is not originally a native of Britain, but of the South of Europe; but since it has been introduced into our gardens, it has spread about in many places, and may occasionally be seen growing on old walls and waste places, particularly in Cornwall and the South of Ireland, the seeds being furnished with a sort of down, which causes them to float on the winds.

The leaves of the red-spur flower are entire, spear shaped, rather smooth and succulent; the upper ones being sometimes toothed on the edges. The

a spur; the seed vessel has three cells, and one seed. It is a strong flower, bearing large bunches of blossoms during the whole summer months, from May till September; and occasionally, in mild seasons, it may be seen in bloom in winter in the cottage gardens around London, so that the botanical student may readily meet with a specimen to illustrate the first Linnean class. In the Natural system, it comes under Valerianece, and, indeed, was formerly called red valerian, (Valeriana rubra.)

If the student live near the sea coast, he may obtain another illustration of this class and order in the glasswort, (Salicornia,) of which there are four species common on our shores, easily known by their fleshy cylindrical jointed leaves, which have a saltish taste, and are hence most relished by cattle, and are greedily devoured by them. The flowers are small and inconspicuous from being without petals, and only appear in autumn, from August to September. In one of the species (S. radicanus) there are two stamens, an irregularity which may give the student a little trouble, if not aware of the circumstance.

The glassworts are important in the manufacture of barilla, or in pure carbonate of soda, so extensively used in bleaching, and in the manufacture of soap. The barilla is chiefly made on the shores of the Mediterranean, where these plants abound. On our own coasts, the quantity grown is not sufficient to supply enough of the raw material for preparing barilla, though we manufacture the similar article of kelp, by burning seaweed. Some years ago it was proposed to cultivate, to some extent, these and other plants employed in making barilla in the South of France, and one plantation of them was made at a short distance from the sea coast, a line of low hills cutting off the fields from the sea breeze. When the plants, thus cultivated, however, were burned in the usual way, it was found that they contained hardly any barilla, the sea breeze, it would appear, being indispensable for that purpose.

Besides preparing barilla, one species of glasswort, called marsh samphire, (S. nerbacea,) is pickled in salt and vinegar, like common samphire, (Crithmum maritimum,) for culinary purposes; but it has little flavour of its own, and wants the aromatic quality characteristic of the common samphire.

SECOND CLASS. DIANDRIA.

The plants which are arranged in this class have "two stamens," as the name Diandria implies. The class is arranged in three orders. 1. Monogynia, with one pistil, as privet, lilac, jasmine, speedwell, slipperwort, rosemary, and sage. 2. Digynia, with two pistils, as sweet-scented vernal grass. 3. Trigynia, with three pistils, as the pepper plants.

The student need never be at a loss for illustrations of at least the first order of this class, as it contains many plants which he may meet with in every garden, and in every walk in the field. The speedwell (Veronica) alone contains upwards of twenty species, natives of Britain, besides several exotic species, some of which are very common in gardens. They may be met with on the highest Alpine mountains, (V. alpina,) and in every running spring, (V. beccabunga,) in the driest field, (V. agrestis,) the tops of old walls, (V. arvensis,) on hedge banks, (V. chamædrys,) in marshes, (V. sentellata,) in gardens, (V. hederacea,) on heaths, (V. officinalis,) and in woods, (V. hirsuta.) The flowers are of various shades of blue, and from having only two stamens and one pistil, cannot be readily confounded with any other sort of plants. The germander speedwell is not unusually called forget-me-not, though this is not the genuine plant, so called, which grows in ponds and ditches, and is the Myosetis palustris of botanists.

The forget-me-not is often used as a pretty device in reference to an absent friend: it would be well if it also led our thoughts to our almighty Friend above. In this sense, to the Christian botanist, every flower of the garden and the field should be a true forget-me-not. A very common plant, belonging to this class and order, is the smaller duckweed, (Lemna minor,) which may be seen floating in dense green sheets on the surface of ponds and other stagnant pieces of water, sending down long thread-like roots to the mud at the bottom. The leaves or fronds are about a fourth of an inch long, inversely, egg oblong, sawtoothed, and flat, being thick and rather firm in substance. There are three other species distinguished by the different sizes and forms of the leaves.

The blossom of this plant is not on any stem, as in other plants; but placed on the edge of the leaf, there being no

petals, and only a one-leafed calyx, and a pistil. The flowers were first discovered by M. Erhart, at Hanover, in 1779. Dr. Adams, an English botanist, devoted himself, for years, to discover this flower, and took so keen an interest in the pursuit, that he was laughed at by his friends; but he died without making the discovery.

The garden sage (Salvia officinalis) belongs to this class and order, and may be seen in every garden, though it does not always blossom; and in some gardens a botanist might watch, as Dr. Adams did, for the blossom of the Lemna for twenty years, without success. The blossom of the sage, when it does appear, is reddish crimson, and in distant whirls on the stem at the base of the leaves. The flower cup (calyx) is purplish and notched, and the corolla is gaping, tubular, and two-lipped. Several plants of this genus, such as the splendid sage, (S. splendens,) with fine scarlet flowers, are not uncommon in gardens. A new species, (S. portens,) from Mexico, has recently been introduced, with very large flowers of a splendid ultramarine blue colour, which, when once seen, is not likely to be forgotten.

The sweet-scented vernal grass (Anthoxanthum adoratum) is arranged in the second order of this class, and is common in every meadow. When dried, it is this which imparts the exquisite scent to meadow hay.

And here we may do well to observe the bountiful provision so mercifully made for human enjoyment. We not only derive pleasure from what is agreeable to the sight, the smell, the hearing, the taste, and the feeling, but also from the associations and remembrances with which they are connected. Thus the scent of hay seldom fails in taking us back to scenes of a joyous kind, where the foliage of trees, the singing of birds, and sunshine and pure air, and health and industry, were mingled with light-hearted peasantry, wide spread fields, and loaded wains. The scent of new mown hay imparts a sensation of happiness, and ought also to call forth a grateful emotion of the heart to the Giver of all good, who has so abundantly scattered abroad the sources of joy. To a well informed' and well regulated mind, creation is audible. Not only does the deep utter "his voice," and lift "up his hands on high," Hab. iii. 10, but the plants and flowers of the field, commune one with

another, and eloquently descant on the goodness of God.

The flowers of the sweet-scented vernal grass, which appear in May, are in form of a greenish spire, becoming yellowish as the seeds ripen in June and July. It does not succeed well when sown by itself, unmixed with other grasses. J. R.

OLD HUMPHREY TO THE YOUNG LADIES OF AN EXTENSIVE ESTABLISHMENT.

MY UNKNOWN Young Friends-How shall I address you whom I have never seen, and, most likely, never shall see, having no knowledge of your tastes, your habits, or your dispositions? Flatter you, I will not; for thereby should I prove myself to be your enemy: judge you with severity, I dare not; for by so doing I should condemn myself. It has been whispered to me that you read my papers, and thus a desire has arisen in my heart to say a few words to you.

Youth is usually cheerful, and I dare say that you are so; but if I write lightly, I may offend the sedate; and should I express myself very gravely, the cheerful will have no fellowship with me; they will say, "We thought the old gentleman wore a smile on his face, and a blooming bouquet in his bosom; but instead of this, he writes as though he had been gathering crabs, drinking a draught of vinegar, and dipping his pen in mingled wormwood and gall.'

Again, if I write a long letter, some of you may accuse me of being a tiresome, garrulous, gossipping old man; and if I write you a short one, "Oh! Oh!" you may say, "Is this his letter? Why it is not worth the trouble he has taken to write it." So take what course I will, my path, you see, is beset with difficulty. However, I will now tell you the way I shall proceed. That which comes uppermost in my mind shall be freely written in a kindly spirit, without my making it an object to be either very gay, or very grave; very short, or very long; very wise, or in a word, very any thing; giving you credit for sufficient good humour and kindness to put the best possible construction you can on my communication.

You know that it is the privilege of old men to look very wise; to shake their heads at young people, and to talk very gravely to them, pointing out how

changed the world is to what it was, and how differently young folks used to ac fifty summers ago to what they do now And you know, too, that while old mer are thus occupied, young people try their best to look grave, for which laudable effort they consider themselves at liberty, the moment they are left alone, to indulge in a good-humoured titter at the old gentleman's odd thoughts, odd words, or odd appearance. If you do not know all this, I do.

Well, you may laugh at me as long and as loudly as you please, provided it be a good-natured laugh, and provided also, that you will try to remember any little piece of advice I may give, which may be likely to do you good.

Not yet have I forgotten my school days. My schoolmaster was ill-informed, hasty, and unreasonably severe; but my schoolmistress was considerate and very kind. She used to stand at one end of the school, and address us in an affectionate manner. I was then young; and now, though so many years have been added to my days, I have not forgotten her soft musical voice, nor the lessons of instruction she endeavoured to impress on our minds.

Now, thus will it be with some of you in future years! when he who now addresses you may be, through mercy, in a better world, you will recall your youthful days, assemble your schoolfellows once more together in your thoughts, and live over again your present pursuits. You will then feel gratification from what you remember of the admonitions of your kind instructors, mingled with regret that you have remembered so little.

And now, to what are you looking forward? Is the fair future glowing with rainbow hues ? Oh, what a goodly world is this, when fancy, and hope, and expectation have to draw its picture!

The green leaves, the fruits and flowers, The sparkling rills and bubbling fountains, Fair vales, and heaven-aspiring mountains, are all placed so conspicuously, covered over with a bonny blue sky, and so lit up with sunshine, that neither the eye nor the heart suspects that there is any thing like shadow beyond them; but, for all this, my young friends, there are shadows in the world!

Think not that Old Humphrey is the man to blight your prospects; rudely to dash from your hands the cup of pleasure; or to drive away the smile from

your faces. Rather would he put sunshine into your bosoms than take it away: but he is not now writing to please you, so much as to do you good; let him, then, speak the truth in sincerity and kindness.

Mankind have been running after earthly happiness, from the days of old, and they are still keeping up the chase. I have run after it myself as hard as my neighbours, and have found myself as far behind. If one thing more than another can assume different shapes, it is the phantom we pursue that we take for happiness.

Earthly happiness is sought by all. The sage pursues it in his books, and reflections; the savage discerns it in the wilderness; the prince views it sparkling in a crown; the peasant beholds it in abundant crops of grain; the sailor sees it in the ocean; the soldier hears it in the stormy fight; and the school-boy and school-girl hope to find it in a holiday.

If I could peep into your hearts, from the youngest of you to the eldest, what a medley should I find there of visionary things laid up in store to make you happy! Waxen dolls and birth-day presents; glowing hopes and pleasant holidays; young friends and old acquaintances; joyous scenes and family gatherings; satin dresses and kid gloves; journeys and jubilees; sunbeams and silvery clouds! I would not, if I could, take away your enjoyment; but I must whisper a word or two by which they may be regulated.

We all love to pluck the fairest fruit, and to gather the sweetest flowers; but put this down as a truth worthy to be graven on a pillar of brass-That there are more fruits and flowers grow by the way-side of the path of duty, than in all the wilderness of wilful inclination.

We all set a value on riches; but Mexico is a long way off, and its gold is hard to gain; the Bible, a far richer source of real wealth, is at hand. I will point out two texts that are worth a hundred Mexicos:-" God is love," 1 John iv. 8. "Christ died for the ungodly," Rom. v. 6.

Willingly would I write more; but time presses, and I must hurry on to the end of my remarks. Though I cannot make you happy, I can commend you to Him who has all happiness at his disposal. I can ask of Him to bless you

with true knowledge, and to keep you from evil; yea to guide you by his counsel, and to bring you to glory.

Old Humphrey is usually cheerful as the day, and he loves to throw around him an air of cheerfulness wherever he goes; but with all his light-heartedness, and in the midst of all his infirmities, he considers this world as nothing without the well-grounded hope of a better. You must place him on the rack; fling him beneath the wheels of Juggernaut, yea, grind him to powder between the upper and nether mill-stone, before you could crush out of him the joyous hope of everlasting life through the Saviour of sinners! And would you do it then?

This is not such a letter as I intended to write; but give me credit for feeling more kindness and interest in your real welfare than I have expressed, and believe me to be, my unknown young friends, yours in the very spirit of sincerity and kindness,

OLD HUMPHREY.

VOLCANOES.-No. I.

THE following is a Divine denunciation delivered against Babylon: "Behold, I am against thee, O destroying mountain, saith the Lord, which destroyest all the earth and I will stretch out mine hand upon thee, and roll thee down from the rocks, and will make thee a burnt mountain. And they shall not take of thee a stone for a corner, nor a stone for foundations; but thou shalt be desolate for ever, saith the Lord," Jer. li. 25, 26.

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Babylon is here compared to a volcano, in terms that appear the more apt and striking, the more minutely we consider them. Mountains were sometimes used by speakers in old times as a figurative representation of a people or nation, perhaps from their bility and their importance in modifying the dip and elevation of the soil, as well as for their influence in attracting the moisture of the air to supply the streamlets that roll down their sides. To a mind accustomed to the use of this metaphor, the language adopted in the verses we have cited must have come with a home-felt force and beauty. A nation, viewed in reference to its government and civil polity, seems to cast a friendly shade over its Own subjects, and is the source of all their earthly prosperity, as a prominent or