THE FRUIT GIFT.
1. In the course of the preceding chapter, I hope that the reader has
obtained, or may by a little patience both obtain and secure, the idea of a
great natural Ordinance, which, in the protection given to the part of
plants necessary to prolong their race, provides, for happier living
creatures, food delightful to their taste, and forms either amusing or
beautiful to their eyes. Whether in receptacle, calyx, or true husk,--in
the cup of the acorn, the fringe of the filbert, the down of the apricot,
or bloom of the plum, the powers of Nature consult quite other ends than
the mere continuance of oaks and plum trees on the earth; and must be
regarded always with gratitude more deep than wonder, when they are indeed
seen with human eyes and human intellect.
2. But in one family of plants, the _contents_ also of the seed, not the
envelope of it merely, are prepared for the support of the higher animal
life; and their grain, filled with the substance which, for universally
understood name, may best keep the Latin one of Farina,--becoming in
French, 'Farine,' and in English, 'Flour,'--both in the perfectly
nourishing elements of it, and its {228} easy and abundant
multiplicability, becomes the primal treasure of human economy.
3. It has been the practice of botanists of all nations to consider the
seeds of the grasses together with those of roses and pease, as if all
could be described on the same principles, and with the same nomenclature
of parts. But the grain of corn is a quite distinct thing from the seed of
pease. In _it_, the husk and the seed envelope have become inextricably
one. All the exocarps, endocarps, epicarps, mesocarps, shells, husks,
sacks, and skins, are woven at once together into the brown bran; and
inside of that, a new substance is collected for us, which is not what we
boil in pease, or poach in eggs, or munch in nuts, or grind in coffee;--but
a thing which, mixed with water and then baked, has given to all the
nations of the world their prime word for food, in thought and
prayer,--Bread; their prime conception of the man's and woman's labor in
preparing it--("whoso putteth hand to the _plough_"--two women shall be
grinding at the _mill_)--their prime notion of the means of cooking by
fire--("which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the _oven_"), and their
prime notion of culinary office--the "chief _baker_," cook, or
pastrycook,--(compare Bedreddin Hassan in the Arabian Nights): and,
finally, to modern civilization, the Saxon word 'lady,' with whatever it
imports.
4. It has also been the practice of botanists to confuse all the ripened
products of plants under the general term {229} 'fruit.' But the essential
and separate fruit-gift is of two substances, quite distinct from flour,
namely, oil and wine, under the last term including for the moment all
kinds of juice which will produce alcohol by fermentation. Of these, oil
may be produced either in the kernels of nuts, as in almonds, or in the
substance of berries, as in the olive, date, and coffee-berry. But the
sweet juice which will become medicinal in wine, can only be developed in
the husk, or in the receptacle.
5. The office of the Chief Butler, as opposed to that of the Chief Baker,
and the office of the Good Samaritan, pouring in oil and wine, refer both
to the total fruit-gift in both kinds: but in the study of plants, we must
primarily separate our notion of their gifts to men into the three
elements, flour, oil, and wine; and have instantly and always intelligible
names for them in Latin, French, and English.
And I think it best not to confuse our ideas of pure vegetable substance
with the possible process of fermentation:--so that rather than 'wine,' for
a constant specific term, I will take 'Nectar,'--this term more rightly
including the juices of the peach, nectarine, and plum, as well as those of
the grape, currant, and apple.
Our three separate substances will then be easily named in all three
languages:
Farina. Oleum. Nectar.
Farine. Huile. Nectare.
Flour. Oil. Nectar.
{230}
There is this farther advantage in keeping the third common term, that it
leaves us the words Succus, Jus, Juice, for other liquid products of
plants, watery, milky, sugary, or resinous,--often indeed important to man,
but often also without either agreeable flavor or nutritious power; and it
is therefore to be observed with care that we may use the word 'juice,' of
a liquid produced by any part of a plant, but 'nectar,' only of the juices
produced in its fruit.
6. But the good and pleasure of fruit is not in the juice only;--in some
kinds, and those not the least valuable, (as the date,) it is not in the
juice at all. We still stand absolutely in want of a word to express the
more or less firm _substance_ of fruit, as distinguished from all other
products of a plant. And with the usual ill-luck,--(I advisedly think of it
as demoniacal misfortune)--of botanical science, no other name has been yet
used for such substance than the entirely false and ugly one of
'Flesh,'--Fr., 'Chair,' with its still more painful derivation 'Charnu,'
and in England the monstrous scientific term, 'Sarco-carp.'
But, under the housewifery of Proserpina, since we are to call the juice of
fruit, Nectar, its substance will be as naturally and easily called
Ambrosia; and I have no doubt that this, with the other names defined in
this chapter, will not only be found practically more convenient than the
phrases in common use, but will more securely fix in the student's mind a
true conception of {231} the essential differences in substance, which,
ultimately, depend wholly on their pleasantness to human perception, and
offices for human good; and not at all on any otherwise explicable
structure or faculty. It is of no use to determine, by microscope or
retort, that cinnamon is made of cells with so many walls, or grape-juice
of molecules with so many sides;--we are just as far as ever from
understanding why these particular interstices should be aromatic, and
these special parallelopipeds exhilarating, as we were in the savagely
unscientific days when we could only see with our eyes, and smell with our
noses. But to call each of these separate substances by a name rightly
belonging to it through all the past variations of the language of educated
man, will probably enable us often to discern powers in the thing itself,
of affecting the human body and mind, which are indeed qualities infinitely
more its _own_, than any which can possibly be extracted by the point of a
knife, or brayed out with a mortar and pestle.
7. Thus, to take merely instance in the three main elements of which we
have just determined the names,--flour, oil, and ambrosia;--the differences
in the kinds of pleasure which the tongue received from the powderiness of
oat-cake, or a well-boiled potato--(in the days when oat-cake and potatoes
were!)--from the glossily-softened crispness of a well-made salad, and from
the cool and fragrant amber of an apricot, are indeed distinctions between
the essential virtues of things which {232} were made to be _tasted_, much
more than to be eaten; and in their various methods of ministry to, and
temptation of, human appetites, have their part in the history, not of
elements merely, but of souls; and of the soul-virtues, which from the
beginning of the world have bade the barrel of meal not waste, nor the
cruse of oil fail; and have planted, by waters of comfort, the fruits which
are for the healing of nations.
8. And, again, therefore, I must repeat, with insistance, the claim I have
made for the limitation of language to the use made of it by educated men.
The word 'carp' could never have multiplied itself into the absurdities of
endo-carps and epi-carps, but in the mouths of men who scarcely ever read
it in its original letters, and therefore never recognized it as meaning
precisely the same thing as 'fructus,' which word, being a little more
familiar with, they would have scarcely abused to the same extent; they
would not have called a walnut shell an intra-fruct--or a grape skin an
extra-fruct; but again, because, though they are accustomed to the English
'fructify,' 'frugivorous'--and 'usufruct,' they are unaccustomed to the
Latin 'fruor,' and unconscious therefore that the derivative 'fructus' must
always, in right use, mean an _enjoyed_ thing, they generalize every mature
vegetable product under the term; and we find Dr. Gray coolly telling us
that there is no fruit so "likely to be mistaken for a seed," as a grain of
corn! a grain, whether of corn, or any other {233} grass, being precisely
the vegetable structure to which frutescent change is forever forbidden!
and to which the word _seed_ is primarily and perfectly applicable!--the
thing to be _sown_, not grafted.
9. But to mark this total incapability of frutescent change, and connect
the form of the seed more definitely with its dusty treasure, it is better
to reserve, when we are speaking with precision, the term 'grain' for the
seeds of the grasses: the difficulty is greater in French than in English:
because they have no monosyllabic word for the constantly granular 'seed';
but for us the terms are all simple, and already in right use, only not
quite clearly enough understood; and there remains only one real difficulty
now in our system of nomenclature, that having taken the word 'husk' for
the seed-vessel, we are left without a general word for the true fringe of
a filbert, or the chaff of a grass. I don't know whether the French
'frange' could be used by them in this sense, if we took it in English
botany. But for the present, we can manage well enough without it, one
general term, 'chaff,' serving for all the grasses, 'cup' for acorns, and
'fringe' for nuts.
10. But I call this a _real_ difficulty, because I suppose, among the
myriads of plants of which I know nothing, there may be forms of the
envelope of fruits or seeds which may, for comfort of speech, require some
common generic name. One _un_real difficulty, or shadow of difficulty,
remains in our having no entirely comprehensive {234} name for seed and
seed-vessel together than that the botanists now use, 'fruit.' But
practically, even now, people feel that they can't gather figs of thistles,
and never speak of the fructification of a thistle, or of the fruit of a
dandelion. And, re-assembling now, in one view, the words we have
determined on, they will be found enough for all practical service, and in
such service always accurate, and, usually, suggestive. I repeat them in
brief order, with such farther explanation as they need.
11. All ripe products of the life of flowers consist essentially of the
Seed and Husk,--these being, in certain cases, sustained, surrounded, or
provided with means of motion, by other parts of the plant; or by
developments of their own form which require in each case distinct names.
Thus the white cushion of the dandelion to which its brown seeds are
attached, and the personal parachutes which belong to each, must be
separately described for that species of plants; it is the little brown
thing they sustain and carry away on the wind, which must be examined as
the essential product of the floret;--the 'seed and husk.'
12. Every seed has a husk, holding either that seed alone, or other seeds
with it.
Every perfect seed consists of an embryo, and the substance which first
nourishes that embryo; the whole enclosed in a sack or other sufficient
envelope. Three essential parts altogether. {235}
Every perfect husk, vulgarly pericarp, or 'round-fruit,'--(as periwig,
'round-wig,')--consists of a shell, (vulgarly endocarp,) rind, (vulgarly
mesocarp,) and skin, (vulgarly epicarp); three essential parts altogether.
But one or more of these parts may be effaced, or confused with another;
and in the seeds of grasses they all concentrate themselves into bran.
13. When a husk consists of two or more parts, each of which has a separate
shaft and volute, uniting in the pillar and volute of the flower, each
separate piece of the husk is called a 'carpel.' The name was first given
by De Candolle, and must be retained. But it continually happens that a
simple husk divides into two parts corresponding to the two leaves of the
embryo, as in the peach, or symmetrically holding alternate seeds, as in
the pea. The beautiful drawing of the pea-shell with its seeds, in
Rousseau's botany, is the only one I have seen which rightly shows and
expresses this arrangement.
14. A Fruit is either the husk, receptacle, petal, or other part of a
flower _external to the seed_, in which chemical changes have taken place,
fitting it for the most part to become pleasant and healthful food for man,
or other living animals; but in some cases making it bitter or poisonous to
them, and the enjoyment of it depraved or deadly. But, as far as we know,
it is without any definite office to the seed it contains; and the change
takes {236} place entirely to fit the plant to the service of animals.[66]
In its perfection, the Fruit Gift is limited to a temperate zone, of which
the polar limit is marked by the strawberry, and the equatorial by the
orange. The more arctic regions produce even the smallest kinds of fruit
with difficulty; and the more equatorial, in coarse, oleaginous, or
over-luscious masses.
15. All the most perfect fruits are developed _from exquisite forms either
of foliage or flower_. The vine leaf, in its generally decorative power, is
the most important, both in life and in art, of all that shade the
habitations of men. The olive leaf is, without any rival, the most
beautiful of the leaves of timber trees; and its blossom, though minute, of
extreme beauty. The apple is essentially the fruit of the rose, and the
peach of her only rival in her own colour. The cherry and orange blossom
are the two types of floral snow.
16. And, lastly, let my readers be assured, the economy of blossom and
fruit, with the distribution of water, {237} will be found hereafter the
most accurate test of wise national government.
For example of the action of a national government, rightly so called, in
these matters, I refer the student to the Mariegolas of Venice, translated
in Fors Clavigera; and I close this chapter, and this first volume of
Proserpina, not without pride, in the words I wrote on this same matter
eighteen years ago. "So far as the labourer's immediate profit is
concerned, it matters not an iron filing whether I employ him in growing a
peach, or in forging a bombshell. But the difference to him is final,
whether, when his child is ill, I walk into his cottage, and give it the
peach,--or drop the shell down his chimney, and blow his roof off."
* * * * *
{238}
INDEX I.
DESCRIPTIVE NOMENCLATURE.
Plants in perfect form are said, at page 26, to consist of four principal
parts: root, stem, leaf, and flower. (Compare Chapter V., § 2.) The reader
may have been surprised at the omission of the fruit from this list. But a
plant which has borne fruit is no longer of 'perfect' form. Its flower is
dead. And, observe, it is further said, at page 65, (and compare Chapter
III., § 2,) that the use of the fruit is to produce the flower: not of the
flower to produce the fruit. Therefore, the plant in perfect blossom, is
itself perfect. Nevertheless, the formation of the fruit, practically, is
included in the flower, and so spoken of in the fifteenth line of the same
page.
Each of these four main parts of a plant consist normally of a certain
series of minor parts, to which it is well to attach easily remembered
names. In this section of my index I will not admit the confusion of idea
involved by alphabetical arrangement of these names, but will sacrifice
facility of reference to clearness of explanation, and taking the four
great parts of the plant in {239} succession, I will give the list of the
minor and constituent parts, with their names as determined in Proserpina,
and reference to the pages where the reasons for such determination are
given, endeavouring to supply, at the same time, any deficiencies which I
find in the body of the text.
I. THE ROOT.
PAGE
Origin of the word Root 27
The offices of the root are threefold: namely,
Tenure, Nourishment, and Animation 27-34
The essential parts of a Root are two: the Limbs
and Fibres 33
I. THE LIMB is the gathered mass of fibres, or at
least of fibrous substance, which extends itself
in search of nourishment 32
II. THE FIBRE is the organ by which the nourishment
is received 32
The inessential or accidental parts of roots, which
are attached to the roots of some plants, but
not to those of others, (and are, indeed, for the
most part absent,) are three: namely, Store-Houses,
Refuges, and Ruins 34
III. Store-houses contain the food of the future
plant 34
{240}
IV. REFUGES shelter the future plant itself for a
time 35
V. RUINS form a basis for the growth of the future
plant in its proper order 36
Root-Stocks, the accumulation of such ruins in a vital
order 37
General questions relating to the office and chemical
power of roots 38
/#
The nomenclature of Roots will not be extended, in
Proserpina, beyond the five simple terms here given:
though the ordinary botanical ones--corm, bulb, tuber,
etc.--will be severally explained in connection with the
plants which they specially characterize.
#/
II. THE STEM.
Derivation of word 137
The channel of communication between leaf and
root 153
In a perfect plant it consists of three parts:
I. THE STEM (STEMMA) proper.--A growing or advancing
shoot which sustains all the other
organs of the plant 136
It may grow by adding thickness to its sides without
advancing; but its essential characteristic is
the vital power of Advance 136
{241}
It may be round, square, or polygonal, but is always
roundly minded 136
Its structural power is Spiral 137
It is essentially branched; having subordinate leaf-stalks
and flower-stalks, if not larger branches 139
It developes the buds, leaves, and flowers of the
plant.
This power is not yet properly defined, or explained;
and referred to only incidentally throughout
the eighth chapter 134-138
II. THE LEAF-STALK (CYMBA) sustains, and expands
itself into, the Leaf 133, 134
It is essentially furrowed above, and convex below 134
It is to be called in Latin, the Cymba; in English,
the Leaf-Stalk 135
III. THE FLOWER-STALK (PETIOLUS):
It is essentially round 130
It is usually separated distinctly at its termination
from the flower 130, 131
It is to be called in Latin, Petiolus; in English,
Flower-stalk 130
These three are the essential parts of a stem. But
{242}
besides these, it has, when largely developed, a
permanent form: namely,
IV. THE TRUNK.--A non-advancing mass of collected
stem, arrested at a given height from the
ground 139
/#
The stems of annual plants are either leafy, as of a
thistle, or bare, sustaining the flower or flower-cluster at
a certain height above the ground. Receiving therefore
these following names:---
#/
V. THE VIRGA.--The leafy stem of an annual plant,
not a grass, yet growing upright 147
VI. THE VIRGULA.--The leafless flower-stem of an
annual plant, not a grass, as of a primrose or
dandelion 147
VII. THE FILUM.--The running stem of a creeping
plant
/#
It is not specified in the text for use; but will be necessary;
so also, perhaps, the Stelechos, or stalk proper (26),
the branched stem of an annual plant, not a grass; one
cannot well talk of the Virga of hemlock. The 'Stolon'
is explained in its classical sense at page 158, but I believe
botanists use it otherwise. I shall have occasion
to refer to, and complete its explanation, in speaking of
bulbous plants.
#/
VIII. THE CAUDEX.--The essentially ligneous and
compact part of a stem 149
{243}
/#
This equivocal word is not specified for use in the text,
but I mean to keep it for the accumulated stems of inlaid
plants, palms, and the like; for which otherwise we have
no separate term.
#/
IX. THE AVENA.--Not specified in the text at all;
but it will be prettier than 'baculus,' which is
that I had proposed, for the 'staff' of grasses.
See page 179.
/#
These ten names are all that the student need remember;
but he will find some interesting particulars respecting
the following three, noticed in the text:---
#/
STIPS.--The origin of stipend, stupid, and stump 148
STIPULA.--The subtlest Latin term for straw 148
CAULIS (Kale).--The peculiar stem of branched eatable
vegetables 149
CANNA.--Not noticed in the text; but likely to be
sometimes useful for the stronger stems of
grasses.
III. THE LEAF.
Derivation of word 26
The Latin form 'folium' 41
The Greek form 'petalos' 42
Veins and ribs of leaves, to be usually summed under
the term 'rib' 44
Chemistry of leaves 46
{244}
/#
The nomenclature of the leaf consists, in botanical
books, of little more than barbarous, and, for the general
reader, totally useless attempts to describe their
forms in Latin. But their forms are infinite and indescribable
except by the pencil. I will give central types of
form in the next volume of Proserpina; which, so that
the reader sees and remembers, he may _call_ anything he
likes. But it is necessary that names should be assigned
to certain classes of leaves which are essentially different
from each other in character and tissue, not merely
in form. Of these the two main divisions have been
already given: but I will now add the less important
ones which yet require distinct names.
#/
I. APOLLINE.--Typically represented by the laurel 51
II. ARETHUSAN.--Represented by the alisma 52
/#
It ought to have been noticed that the character of serration,
within reserved limits, is essential to an Apolline
leaf, and absolutely refused by an Arethusan one.
#/
III. DRYAD.--Of the ordinary leaf tissue, neither
manifestly strong, nor admirably tender, but
serviceably consistent, which we find generally
to be the substance of the leaves of forest trees.
Typically represented by those of the oak.
IV. ABIETINE.--Shaft or sword-shape, as the leaves
of firs and pines.
V. CRESSIC.--Delicate and light, with smooth tissue,
as the leaves of cresses, and clover.
{245}
VI. SALVIAN.--Soft and woolly, like miniature
blankets, easily folded, as the leaves of sage.
VII. CAULINE.--Softly succulent, with thick central
ribs, as of the cabbage.
VIII. ALOEINE.--Inflexibly succulent, as of the
aloe or houseleek.
/#
No rigid application of these terms must ever be attempted;
but they direct the attention to important general
conditions, and will often be found to save time and
trouble in description.
#/
IV. THE FLOWER.
Its general nature and function 65
Consists essentially of Corolla and Treasury 78
Has in perfect form the following parts:--
I. THE TORUS.--Not yet enough described in the
text. It is the expansion of the extremity of
the flower-stalk, in preparation for the support
of the expanding flower 66, 224
II. THE INVOLUCRUM.--Any kind of wrapping or
propping condition of leafage at the base of a
flower may properly come under this head; but
the manner of prop or protection differs in different
kinds, and I will not at present give generic
names to these peculiar forms.
{246}
III. THE CALYX (The Hiding-place).--The outer
whorl of leaves, under the protection of which
the real flower is brought to maturity. Its separate
leaves are called SEPALS 80
IV. THE COROLLA (The Cup).--The inner whorl of
leaves, forming the flower itself. Its separate
leaves are called PETALS 71
V. THE TREASURY.--The part of the flower that
contains its seeds.
VI. THE PILLAR.--The part of the flower above its
treasury, by which the power of the pollen is
carried down to the seeds 78
It consists usually of two parts--the SHAFT and
VOLUTE 78
When the pillar is composed of two or more shafts,
attached to separate treasury-cells, each cell
with its shaft is called a CARPEL 235
VII. THE STAMENS.--The parts of the flower which
secrete its pollen 78
They consist usually of two parts, the FILAMENT and
ANTHER, not yet described.
VIII. THE NECTARY.--The part of the flower containing
its honey, or any other special product
of its inflorescence. The name has often been
{247}
given to certain forms of petals of which the
use is not yet known. No notice has yet been
taken of this part of the flower in Proserpina.
/#
These being all the essential parts of the flower itself,
other forms and substances are developed in the seed as it
ripens, which, I believe, may most conveniently be arranged
in a separate section, though not logically to be
considered as separable from the flower, but only as
mature states of certain parts of it.
#/
V. THE SEED.
I must once more desire the reader to take notice that, under the four
sections already defined, the morphology of the plant is to be considered
as complete, and that we are now only to examine and name, farther, its
_product_; and that not so much as the germ of its own future descendant
flower, but as a separate substance which it is appointed to form, partly
to its own detriment, for the sake of higher creatures. This product
consists essentially of two parts: the Seed and its Husk.
I. THE SEED.--Defined 220
It consists, in its perfect form, of three parts 222
/#
These three parts are not yet determinately named in
the text: but I give now the names which will be usually
attached to them.
#/
A. _The Sacque_.--The outside skin of a seed 221
{248}
B. _The Nutrine_.--A word which I coin, for general
applicability, whether to the farina of
corn, the substance of a nut, or the parts that
become the first leaves in a bean 221
C. _The Germ_.--The origin of the root 221
II. THE HUSK.--Defined 222
Consists, like the seed when in perfect form, of
three parts.
A. _The Skin_.--The outer envelope of all the
seed structures 222
B. _The Rind_.--The central body of the Husk. 222-235
C. _The Shell_.--Not always shelly, yet best described
by this general term; and becoming
a shell, so called, in nuts, peaches, dates, and
other such kernel-fruits 222
The products of the Seed and Husk of Plants, for
the use of animals, are practically to be massed
under the three heads of BREAD, OIL, and FRUIT.
But the substance of which bread is made is
more accurately described as Farina; and the
pleasantness of fruit to the taste depends on two
elements in its substance: the juice, and the
pulp containing it, which may properly be
called Nectar and Ambrosia. We have therefore
in all four essential products of the Seed
and Husk--
{249}
A. Farina. Flour 227
B. Oleum. Oil 229
C. Nectar. Fruit-juice 229
D. Ambrosia. Fruit-substance 230
Besides these all-important products of the seed, others are formed in the
stems and leaves of plants, of which no account hitherto has been given in
Proserpina. I delay any extended description of these until we have
examined the structure of wood itself more closely; this intricate and
difficult task having been remitted (p. 195) to the days of coming spring;
and I am well pleased that my younger readers should at first be vexed with
no more names to be learned than those of the vegetable productions with
which they are most pleasantly acquainted: but for older ones, I think it
well, before closing the present volume, to indicate, with warning, some of
the obscurities, and probable fallacies, with which this vanity of science
encumbers the chemistry, no less than the morphology, of plants.
Looking back to one of the first books in which our new knowledge of
organic chemistry began to be displayed, thirty years ago, I find that even
at that period the organic elements which the cuisine of the laboratory had
already detected in simple Indigo, were the following:-- {250}
Isatine, Bromisatine, Bidromisatine;
Chlorisatine, Bichlorisatine;
Chlorisatyde, Bichlorisatyde;
Chlorindine, Chlorindoptene, Chlorindatmit;
Chloranile, Chloranilam, and, Chloranilammon.
And yet, with all this practical skill in decoction, and accumulative
industry in observation and nomenclature, so far are our scientific men
from arriving, by any decoctive process of their own knowledge, at general
results useful to ordinary human creatures, that when I wish now to
separate, for young scholars, in first massive arrangement of vegetable
productions, the Substances of Plants from their Essences; that is to say,
the weighable and measurable body of the plant from its practically
immeasurable, if not imponderable, spirit, I find in my three volumes of
close-printed chemistry, no information what ever respecting the quality of
volatility in matter, except this one sentence:--
"The disposition of various substances to yield vapour is very different:
and the difference depends doubtless on the relative power of cohesion with
which they are endowed."[67]
Even in this not extremely pregnant, though extremely {251} cautious,
sentence, two conditions of matter are confused, no notice being taken of
the difference in manner of dissolution between a vitally fragrant and a
mortally putrid substance.
It is still more curious that when I look for more definite instruction on
such points to the higher ranks of botanists, I find in the index to Dr.
Lindley's 'Introduction to Botany'--seven hundred pages of close print--not
one of the four words 'Volatile,' 'Essence,' 'Scent,' or 'Perfume.' I
examine the index to Gray's 'Structural and Systematic Botany,' with
precisely the same success. I next consult Professors Balfour and Grindon,
and am met by the same dignified silence. Finally, I think over the
possible chances in French, and try in Figuier's indices to the 'Histoire
des Plantes' for 'Odeur'--no such word! 'Parfum'--no such word.
'Essence'--no such word. 'Encens'--no such word. I try at last 'Pois de
Senteur,' at a venture, and am referred to a page which describes their
going to sleep.
Left thus to my own resources, I must be content for the present to bring
the subject at least under safe laws of nomenclature. It is possible that
modern chemistry may be entirely right in alleging the absolute identity of
substances such as albumen, or fibrine, whether they occur in the animal or
vegetable economies. But I do not choose to assume this identity in my
nomenclature. It may, perhaps, be very fine and very instructive to {252}
inform the pupils preparing for competitive examination that the main
element of Milk is Milkine, and of Cheese, Cheesine. But for the practical
purposes of life, all that I think it necessary for the pupil to know is
that in order to get either milk or cheese, he must address himself to a
Cow, and not to a Pump; and that what a chemist can produce for him out of
dandelions or cocoanuts, however milky or cheesy it may look, may more
safely be called by some name of its own.
This distinctness of language becomes every day more desirable, in the face
of the refinements of chemical art which now enable the ingenious
confectioner to meet the demands of an unscientific person for (suppose) a
lemon drop, with a mixture of nitric acid, sulphur, and stewed bones. It is
better, whatever the chemical identity of the products may be, that each
should receive a distinctive epithet, and be asked for and supplied, in
vulgar English, and vulgar probity, either as essence of lemons, or
skeletons.
I intend, therefore,--and believe that the practice will be found both wise
and convenient,--to separate in all my works on natural history the terms
used for vegetable products from those used for animal or mineral ones,
whatever may be their chemical identity, or resemblance in aspect. I do not
mean to talk of fat in seeds, nor of flour in eggs, nor of milk in rocks.
Pace my prelatical friends, I mean to use the word 'Alb' for vegetable
albumen; and although I cannot without pedantry avoid {253} using sometimes
the word 'milky' of the white juices of plants, I must beg the reader to
remain unaffected in his conviction that there is a vital difference
between liquids that coagulate into butter, or congeal into India-rubber.
Oil, when used simply, will always mean a vegetable product: and when I
have occasion to speak of petroleum, tallow, or blubber, I shall generally
call these substances by their right names.
There are also a certain number of vegetable materials more or less
prepared, secreted, or digested for us by animals, such as wax, honey,
silk, and cochineal. The properties of these require more complex
definitions, but they have all very intelligible and well-established
names. 'Tea' must be a general term for an extract of any plant in boiling
water: though when standing alone the word will take its accepted Chinese
meaning: and essence, the general term for the condensed dew of a vegetable
vapour, which is with grace and fitness called the 'being' of a plant,
because its properties are almost always characteristic of the species; and
it is not, like leaf tissue or wood fibre, approximately the same material
in different shapes; but a separate element in each family of flowers, of a
mysterious, delightful, or dangerous influence, logically inexplicable,
chemically inconstructible, and wholly, in dignity of nature, above all
modes and faculties of form.
* * * * *
{254}
INDEX II.
TO THE PLANTS SPOKEN OF IN THIS VOLUME, UNDER THEIR ENGLISH NAMES, ACCEPTED
BY PROSERPINA.
Apple, 102
Ash, 120, 127
Aspen, 134
Asphodel, 8, 36
Bay, 51
Bean, 104
Bed-straw, 120
Bindweed, 144
Birch, 172
Blackthorn, 119, 127
Blaeberry, 52, 206
Bluebell, 144
Bramble, 119, 195
Burdock, 112, 131
Burnet, 95
Butterbur, 118
Cabbage, 131, 149
Captain-salad, 149
Carrot, 32, 35
Cauliflower, 131, 149
Cedar, 35, 61, 113
Celandine, 72
Cherry, 65, 130
Chestnut, 62
" Spanish, 166
Chicory, 118
Clover, 111
Colewort, 149
Coltsfoot, 110
Corn-cockle, 108
Corn-flag, 104, 109
Cowslip, 139
Crocus, 36, 37
Daffodil,
{255}
Daisy, 117, 144, 145
Dandelion, 117
Devil's Bit, 147
Dock, 131
Elm, 52
Fig, 63
Flag, 104
Flax, 165
Foils, Rock, 144
" Roof, 144, 146
Foxglove, 70, 118, 139
Frog-flower, 56
Grape, 103, 130
Grass, 52, 53, 55, 156, 158, 161, 163
Hawk's-eye, 118
Hazel, 120
Heath, 67, 68, 107, 208
Hemlock, 107
Herb-Robert, 121
Holly, 113, 119
Houseleek, 37, 146
Hyacinth, 65, 67
Ivy, 111
Jacinth, 83, 186
King-cup, 110
Laurel, 35, 59, 140
" leaves, 43, 51, 60
Lichen, 175
Lilac, 76
Lily, 1, 36, 53, 104, 109
Lily, St. Bruno's, 1, 7, 9, 10
Lily of the Valley, 143
Lily, Water, 55, 72
Ling, 68, 69
Lion's-tooth, 113
Liquorice, 38
Lucy, 110, 144
Mistletoe, 111
Moss, 12, 15, 175
Mushroom, 43, 127
Myrtle, 51
Nettle, 52, 88, 107
Nightshade, 108
Oak, 36, 140
" blossom, 67
Olive, 51, 63, 142
Onion, 38
Orange, 51
Pæony, 129
Palm, 43, 53, 54, 103, 156, 166
{256}
Pansy, 120, 144
Papilionaceæ, 145
Papyrus, 165
Pea, 32, 144
Peach, 130, 144
Pine, 140
Pineapple, 14
Pink, 144
Plantain, 134
Pomegranate, 102
Poplar, 52
Poppy, 70, 76, 86, 104
Primrose, 79, 144
Radish, 35, 38
Ragged Robin, 155
Rhubarb, 131
Rice, 52
Rock-foil, 144
Roof-foil, 144, 146
Rose, 64, 69, 75, 104, 109, 119, 121, 129, 144
Rush, 157
Saxifrage, 120, 143, 146
Scabious, 147
Sedum, 146
Sorrel-wood, 9
Spider Plant, 8
Sponsa solis, 118
Stella, 144, 146
" domestica, 146
Stonecrop, 146
Sweetbriar, 109
Thistle, 103, 104, 113, 117, 118, 121, 144 _note_, 151
Thistle, Creeping, 138
" Waste, 138
Thorns, 121, 127
" Black, 119, 127
Thyme, 118
Tobacco, 38, 108
Tormentilla, 110
Turnip, 35
Vine, 104, 108, 140, 142
Viola, 144
Wallflower, 111
Wheat, 127, 165
Wreathewort, 181
* * * * *
{257}
INDEX III.
TO THE PLANTS SPOKEN OF IN THIS VOLUME, UNDER THEIR LATIN OR GREEK NAMES,
ACCEPTED BY PROSERPINA.
Acanthus, 104
Alata, 144
Alisma, 52
Amaryllis, 36, 37
Anemone, 107
Artemides, 196
Asphodel, 11
Aurora, 207
Azalea, 207
Cactus, 43
Campanula, 144
Carduus, 138
Charites, 188
Cistus, 69
Clarissa, 144, 155
Contorta, 181
Convoluta, 144
Cyclamen, 32
Drosidæ, 36, 199
Ensatæ, 203
Ericæ, 9, 206
Eryngo, 83
Fragaria, 188
Francesca, 144, 146
Fraxinus, 195
Geranium, 83, 120
Gladiolus, 104, 109, 163
Hyacinthus, 186
Hypnum, 13
Iris, 36, 103
Lilium (_see_ Lily), 8
Lucia, 110, 189
{258}
Magnolia, 51
Margarita, 144
Myrtilla, 206
Narcissus, 109
Ophrys, 180
Papaver, 91, 96
Persica, 144
Pomum, 188
Primula, 143
Rosa, 144
Rubra, 188, 195
Satyrium, 182
Stella, 144, 146
Veronica, 75
Viola, 144
* * * * *
Notes
[1] At least, it throws off its flowers on each side in a bewilderingly
pretty way; a real lily can't branch, I believe: but, if not, what is the
use of the botanical books saying "on an unbranched stem"?
[2] I have by happy chance just added to my Oxford library the poet Gray's
copy of Linnæus, with its exquisitely written Latin notes, exemplary alike
to scholar and naturalist.
[3] It was in the year 1860, in June.
[4] Admirably engraved by Mr. Burgess, from my pen drawing, now at Oxford.
By comparing it with the plate of the same flower in Sowerby's work, the
student will at once see the difference between attentive drawing, which
gives the cadence and relation of masses in a group, and the mere copying
of each flower in an unconsidered huddle.
[5] "Histoire des Plantes." Ed. 1865, p. 416.
[6] The like of it I have now painted, Number 281, CASE XII., in the
Educational Series of Oxford.
[7] Properly, Floræ Danicæ, but it is so tiresome to print the diphthongs
that I shall always call it thus. It is a folio series, exquisitely begun,
a hundred years ago; and not yet finished.
[8] Magnified about seven times. See note at end of this chapter.
[9] American,--'System of Botany,' the best technical book I have.
[10] 'Dicranum cerviculatum,' sequel to Flora Danica, Tab. MMCCX.
[11] The reader should buy a small specimen of this mineral; it is a useful
type of many structures.
[12] LUCCA, _Aug. 9th, 1874._--I have left this passage as originally
written, but I believe the dome is of accumulated earth. Bringing home,
here, evening after evening, heaps of all kinds of mosses from the hills
among which the Archbishop Ruggieri was hunting the wolf and her whelps in
Ugolino's dream, I am more and more struck, every day, with their special
function as earth-gatherers, and with the enormous importance to their own
brightness, and to our service, of that dark and degraded state of the
inferior leaves. And it fastens itself in my mind mainly as their
distinctive character, that as the leaves of a tree become wood, so the
leaves of a moss become earth, while yet a normal part of the plant. Here
is a cake in my hand weighing half a pound, bright green on the surface,
with minute crisp leaves; but an inch thick beneath in what looks at first
like clay, but is indeed knitted fibre of exhausted moss. Also, I don't at
all find the generalization I made from the botanical books likely to have
occurred to me from the real things. No moss leaves that I can find here
give me the idea of resemblance to pineapple leaves; nor do I see any,
through my weak lens, clearly serrated; but I do find a general tendency to
run into a silky filamentous structure, and in some, especially on a small
one gathered from the fissures in the marble of the cathedral, white
threads of considerable length at the extremities of the leaves, of which
threads I remember no drawing or notice in the botanical books. Figure 1
represents, magnified, a cluster of these leaves, with the germinating
stalk springing from their centre; but my scrawl was tired and careless,
and for once, Mr. Burgess has copied _too_ accurately.
[13] Learn this word, at any rate; and if you know any Greek, learn also
this group of words: "[Greek: hôs rhiza en gê dipsôsêi]," which you may
chance to meet with, and even to think about, some day.
[14] "Duhamel, botanist of the last century, tells us that, wishing to
preserve a field of good land from the roots of an avenue of elms which
were exhausting it, he cut a ditch between the field and avenue to
intercept the roots. But he saw with surprise those of the roots which had
not been cut, go down behind the slope of the ditch to keep out of the
light, go under the ditch, and into the field again." And the Swiss
naturalist Bonnet said wittily, apropos of a wonder of this sort, "that
sometimes it was difficult to distinguish a cat from a rosebush."
[15] As the first great office of the mosses is the gathering of earth, so
that of the grasses is the binding of it. Theirs the Enchanter's toil, not
in vain,--making ropes out of sea-sand.
[16] Drosidæ, in our school nomenclature, is the general name, including
the four great tribes, iris, asphodel, amaryllis, and lily. See reason for
this name given in the 'Queen of the Air,' Section II.
[17] The only use of a great part of our existing nomenclature is to enable
one botanist to describe to another a plant which the other has not seen.
When the science becomes approximately perfect, all known plants will be
properly figured, so that nobody need describe them; and unknown plants be
so rare that nobody will care to learn a new and difficult language, in
order to be able to give an account of what in all probability he will
never see.
[18] An excellent book, nevertheless.
[19] Lindley, 'Introduction to Botany,' vol. i., p. 21. The terms "wholly
obsolete," says an authoritative botanic friend. Thank Heaven!
[20] "You should see the girders on under-side of the Victoria Water-lily,
the most wonderful bit of engineering, of the kind, I know
of."--('Botanical friend.')
[21] Roughly, Cyllene 7,700 feet high; Erymanthus 7,000; Mænalus 6,000.
[22] _March 3rd._--We now ascend the roots of the mountain called Kastaniá,
and begin to pass between it and the mountain of Alonístena, which is on
our right. The latter is much higher than Kastaniá, and, like the other
peaked summits of the Mænalian range, is covered with firs, and deeply at
present with snow. The snow lies also in our pass. At a fountain in the
road, the small village of Bazeníko is half a mile on the right, standing
at the foot of the Mænalian range, and now covered with snow.
Saetá is the most lofty of the range of mountains, which are in face of
Levídhi, to the northward and eastward; they are all a part of the chain
which extends from Mount Khelmós, and connects that great summit with
Artemisium, Parthenium, and Parnon. Mount Saetá is covered with firs. The
mountain between the plain of Levídhi and Alonístena, or, to speak by the
ancient nomenclature, that part of the Mænalian range which separates the
Orchomenia from the valleys of Helisson and Methydrium, is clothed also
with large forests of the same trees; the road across this ridge from
Lavídhi to Alonístena is now impracticable on account of the snow.
I am detained all day at Levídhi by a heavy fall of snow, which before the
evening has covered the ground to half a foot in depth, although the
village is not much elevated above the plain, nor in a more lofty situation
than Tripolitzá.
_March 4th._--Yesterday afternoon and during the night the snow fell in
such quantities as to cover all the plains and adjacent mountains; and the
country exhibited this morning as fine a snow-scene as Norway could supply.
As the day advanced and the sun appeared, the snow melted rapidly, but the
sky was soon overcast again, and the snow began to fall.
[23] Just in time, finding a heap of gold under an oak tree some thousand
years old, near Arundel, I've made them out: Eight, divided by three; that
is to say, three couples of petals, with two odd little ones inserted for
form's sake. No wonder I couldn't decipher them by memory.
[24] Figs. 8 and 9 are both drawn and engraved by Mr. Burgess.
[25] Of Vespertilian science generally, compare 'Eagles' Nest,' pp. 25 and
179.
[26] The mathematical term is 'rhomb.'
[27] [Greek: hês to sperma artopoieitai.]
[28] [Greek: epimêkes echousa to kephalion.] Dioscorides makes no effort to
distinguish species, but gives the different names as if merely used in
different places.
[29] It is also used sometimes of the garden poppy, says Dioscorides,
"[Greek: dia to rhein ex autês ton opon]"--"because the sap, opium, flows
from it."
[30] See all the passages quoted by Liddell.
[31] I find this chapter rather tiresome on re-reading it myself, and
cancel some farther criticism of the imitation of this passage by Virgil,
one of the few pieces of the Æneid which are purely and vulgarly imitative,
rendered also false as well as weak by the introducing sentence, "Volvitur
Euryalus leto," after which the simile of the drooping flower is absurd. Of
criticism, the chief use of which is to warn all sensible men from such
business, the following abstract of Diderot's notes on the passage, given
in the 'Saturday Review' for April 29th, 1871, is worth preserving. (Was
the French critic really not aware that Homer _had_ written the lines his
own way?)
"Diderot illustrates his theory of poetical hieroglyphs by no quotations,
but we can show the manner of his minute and sometimes fanciful criticism
by repeating his analysis of the passage of Virgil wherein the death of
Euryalus is described:--
'Pulchrosque per artus
It cruor, inque humeros cervix collapsa recumbit;
Purpureus veluti cum flos succisus aratro
Languescit moriens; lassove papavera collo
Demisere caput, pluvia cum forte gravantur.'
"The sound of 'It cruor,' according to Diderot, suggests the image of a jet
of blood; 'cervix collapsa recumbit,' the fall of a dying man's head upon
his shoulder; 'succisus' imitates the use of a cutting scythe (not plough);
'demisere' is as soft as the eye of a flower; 'gravantur,' on the other
hand, has all the weight of a calyx, filled with rain; 'collapsa' marks an
effort and a fall, and similar double duty is performed by 'papavera,' the
first two syllables symbolizing the poppy upright, the last two the poppy
bent. While thus pursuing his minute investigations, Diderot can scarcely
help laughing at himself, and candidly owns that he is open to the
suspicion of discovering in the poem beauties which have no existence. He
therefore qualifies his eulogy by pointing out two faults in the passage.
'Gravantur,' notwithstanding the praise it has received, is a little too
heavy for the light head of a poppy, even when filled with water. As for
'aratro,' coming as it does after the hiss of 'succisus,' it is altogether
abominable. Had Homer written the lines, he would have ended with some
hieroglyph, which would have continued the hiss or described the fall of a
flower. To the hiss of 'succisus' Diderot is warmly attached. Not by
mistake, but in order to justify the sound, he ventures to translate
'aratrum' into 'scythe,' boldly and rightly declaring in a marginal note
that this is not the meaning of the word."
[32] And I have too harshly called our English vines, 'wicked weeds of
Kent,' in Fors Clavigera, xxvii. 11. Much may be said for Ale, when we brew
it for our people honestly.
[33] Has my reader ever thought,--I never did till this moment,--how it
perfects the exquisite character which Scott himself loved, as he invented,
till he changed the form of the novel, that his habitual interjection
should be this word;--not but that the oath, by conscience, was happily
still remaining then in Scotland, taking the place of the mediæval 'by St.
Andrew,' we in England, long before the Scot, having lost all sense of the
Puritanical appeal to private conscience, as of the Catholic oath, 'by St.
George;' and our uncanonized 'by George' in sonorous rudeness, ratifying,
not now our common conscience, but our individual opinion.
[34] 'Jotham,' 'Sum perfectio eorum,' or 'Consummatio eorum.'
(Interpretation of name in Vulgate index.)
[35] If you will look at the engraving, in the England and Wales series, of
Turner's Oakhampton, you will see its use.
[36] General assertions of this kind must always be accepted under
indulgence,--exceptions being made afterwards.
[37] I use 'round' rather than 'cylindrical,' for simplicity's sake.
[38] Carduus Arvensis. 'Creeping Thistle,' in Sowerby; why, I cannot
conceive, for there is no more creeping in it than in a furzebush. But it
especially haunts foul and neglected ground; so I keep the Latin name,
translating 'Waste-Thistle.' I could not show the variety of the curves of
the involucre without enlarging; and if, on this much increased scale, I
had tried to draw the flower, it would have taken Mr. Allen and me a good
month's more work. And I had no more a month than a life, to spare: so the
action only of the spreading flower is indicated, but the involucre drawn
with precision.
[39] The florets gathered in the daisy are cinquefoils, examined closely.
No system founded on colour can be very general or unexceptionable: but the
splendid purples of the pansy, and thistle, which will be made one of the
lower composite groups under Margarita, may justify the general assertion
of this order's being purple.
[40] See Miss Yonge's exhaustive account of the name, 'History of Christian
Names,' vol. i., p. 265.
[41] (Du Cange.) The word 'Margarete' is given as heraldic English for
pearl, by Lady Juliana Berners, in the book of St. Albans.
[42] Recent botanical research makes this statement more than dubitable.
Nevertheless, on no other supposition can the forms and action of
tree-branches, so far as at present known to me, be yet clearly accounted
for.
[43] Not always in muscular power; but the framework on which strong
muscles are to act, as that of an insect's wing, or its jaw, is never
insectile.
[44] It is one of the three cadences, (the others being of the words
rhyming to 'mind' and 'way,') used by Sir Philip Sidney in his marvellous
paraphrase of the 55th Psalm.
[45] Lectures on the Families of Speech, by the Rev. F. Farrer Longman,
1870. Page 81.
[46] I only profess, you will please to observe, to ask questions in
Proserpina. Never to answer any. But of course this chapter is to introduce
some further inquiry in another place.
[47] See Introduction, pp. 5-8.
[48] See Sowerby's nomenclature of the flower, vol. ix., plate 1703.
[49] Linnæus used this term for the oleanders; but evidently with less
accuracy than usual.
[50] "[Greek: anthê porphuroeidê]" says Dioscorides, of the race
generally,--but "[Greek: anthê de hupoporphura]" of this particular one.
[51] I offer a sample of two dozen for good papas and mammas to begin
with:--
Angraecum.
Anisopetalum.
Brassavola.
Brassia.
Caelogyne.
Calopogon.
Corallorrhiza.
Cryptarrhena.
Eulophia.
Gymnadenia.
Microstylis.
Octomeria.
Ornithidium.
Ornithocephalus.
Platanthera.
Pleurothallis.
Pogonia.
Polystachya.
Prescotia.
Renanthera.
Rodriguezia.
Stenorhyncus.
Trizeuxis.
Xylobium.
[52] Compare Chapter V., § 7.
[53] "Jacinthus Jurae," changed from "Hyacinthus Comosus."
[54]
"Cantando, e scegliendo fior di fiore
Onde era picta tutta la sua via."--_Purg._, xxviii. 35.
[55] "[Greek: kai theoisi terpna.]"
[56] The four races of this order are more naturally distinct than
botanists have recognized. In Clarissa, the petal is cloven into a fringe
at the outer edge; in Lychnis, the petal is terminated in two rounded lobes
and the fringe withdrawn to the top of the limb; in Scintilla, the petal is
divided into two _sharp_ lobes, without any fringe of the limb; and in
Mica, the minute and scarcely visible flowers have simple and far separate
petals. The confusion of these four great natural races under the vulgar or
accidental botanical names of spittle-plant, shore-plant, sand plant, etc.,
has become entirely intolerable by any rational student; but the names
'Scintilla,' substituted for Stellaria, and 'Mica' for the utterly
ridiculous and probably untrue Sagina, connect themselves naturally with
Lychnis, in expression of the luminous power of the white and sparkling
blossoms.
[57] Clytia will include all the true sun-flowers, and Falconia the
hawkweeds; but I have not yet completed the analysis of this vast and
complex order, so as to determine the limits of Margarita and Alcestis.
[58] The reader must observe that the positions given in this more
developed system to any flower do not interfere with arrangements either
formerly or hereafter given for memoria technica. The name of the pea, for
instance (alata), is to be learned first among the twelve cinqfoils, p.
214, above; then transferred to its botanical place.
[59] The amphibious habit of this race is to me of more importance than its
outlaid structure.
[60] "Arctostaphylos Alpina," I believe; but scarcely recognize the flower
in my botanical books.
[61] 'Aurora Regina,' changed from Rhododendron Ferrugineum.
[62] I do not see what this can mean. Primroses and cowslips can't become
shrubs; nor can violets, nor daisies, nor any other of our pet meadow
flowers.
[63] 'Deserts.' Punas is not in my Spanish dictionary, and the reference to
a former note is wrong in my edition of Humboldt, vol. iii., p. 490.
[64] "The Alpine rose of equinoctial America," p. 453.
[65] More literally "persons to whom the care of eggs is entrusted."
[66] A most singular sign of this function is given to the chemistry of the
changes, according to a French botanist, to whose carefully and richly
illustrated volume I shall in future often refer my readers, "Vers l'époque
de la maturité, les fruits _exhalent de l'acide carbonique_. Ils ne
presentent plus dès lors aucun dégagement d'oxygène pendant le jour, et
_respirent, pour ainsi dire, à la façon des animaux_."--(Figuier, 'Histoire
des Plantes,' p. 182. 8vo. Paris. Hachette. 1874.)
[67] 'Elements of Chemistry,' p. 44. By Edward Turner; edited by Justus
Liebig and William Gregory. Taylor and Walton, 1840.
* * * * *
Corrections made to printed original.
p.27. "In Greek, [Greek: rhiza]" - "[Greek: riza]" with soft breath mark in
original.
p.62. "shall it not be said of England?" - "no be said" in original.
ibid. "beneficent in fulfilment" - "benet ficent" (across 2 lines) in
original.
p.71. "flaunting breadth of untenable purple" - "untenabie" in original.
p.145. "to warn them that this trial of their lovers" - "warm them" in
original.
p.195. "XI. HESPERIDES." - "II." in original.
p.238. "at page 26" - "at page 29" in original.
ibid. "at page 65" - "at page 73" in original.
Index II. "Celandine" - "Calendine" in original.
Ibid. "Thistle, ... 151." "151 note" in original.
Ibid. "Thistle, Waste, 138" - "154" in original.
Index III. "Fraxinus" - "Frarinus" in original.