THE PASQUE-FLOWER ANEMONE. Anemone Pulsatilla; Linn. The stormy March is come at last, With wind, and cloud, and changing skies; I hear the rushing of the blast That through the snowy valley lies. Ah! passing few are they who speak, For thou to northern lands again, The glad and glorious sun dost bring; BRYANT. THE month of March is truly a cold one. Few there are who love to brave the bitter east winds which prevail in this month. But the botanist must not give up his researches then if he would find some of the choicest of Flora's spring treasures. He must not confine his excursions to the shaded valley, nor pursue his investigation among sheltering trees in woods and forests; he must fearlessly climb the mountain's side, or the bare ascent of wide and open hills, or he will pass by many flowers which he would delight to find. And not the least worthy of his notice during this month is the Pasque-flower Anemone, a name given to the flower by old Gerarde, because it flowers about Easter. It grows in a dry chalky soil. The flower from which our drawing is taken was gathered near the Gogmagog Hills, in the neighbourhood of Cambridge, during March, 1848, by the Rev. James Goodday, M.A. This plant is very numerous in that station. It is also found in various parts of England, in loamy pastures, but is not common. The flowers are very beautiful when blooming, and are great favourites in the flower border. The root of this species of the Anemone is of a dark brown colour, and of a ligneous nature. All the leaves of the plant are radical, bi-pinnate, with many narrow linear acute spreading segments. They have long furrowed footstalks, which spread and form a sheath at the base; and they are all enveloped in the withered remains of the preceding year, and thickly clad with long spreading hairs. The stem, which varies from three to six inches in length, terminates in the solitary flower, which is cut into six segments, of one to two inches in length. It is of a dull violet blue colour, and its outer surface is covered with soft, silky hairs. The segments are united into a bell-shaped form, spreading from the base, and the extremity of the segments slightly recurved. It has numerous sta mens. The filaments are thread-shaped, and the anthers, which consist of two cells, are oblong and yellow. The styles are slender, downy, and tapering; and the stigma small, simple, and blunt. The involucrum is about an inch below the base of the flower. It consists of three pieces, which are united at the base into a short tube. The whole is much divided into narrow linear segments, an inch long, covered with spreading hairs. It bears much fruit, which is crowded. The Pasque-flower Anemone, as we said, is rare. Would it diminish the beauty of this flower if botanists were to cultivate it in wild places? We know that flowers taken from their native wilds, and transplanted into another place, though in the very soil from which they were gathered, will frequently flourish only for a time. But it were worth while to notice soil, climate, and how that is affected by the aspect of the station in which flowers grow; how they are exposed to winds or showers, or in what way they are particularly sheltered from influences which might injure them; and then for brother botanists and lovers of nature in her unfrequented haunts, to exchange roots and seeds, and plant or sow them. We think there is a sufficient love of natural beauty-a sufficient reverence for the natural rights of all to enjoy the beauties of those lovely flowers which nature has made to "dwell beside our paths and homes, Our paths of sin, our homes of sorrow," to prevent these artificial natives (if we may so call them) being disturbed. The purely selfish would pass them by unheeded; all others would look upon them and admire them, and then they would away, leaving them to enchant the eyes of those who should follow. From these, as well as from those which are assumed to be truly indigenous and natural inhabitants of certain localities ; cr guilty man, where'er he roams, Their innocent mirth might borrow." The Pasque-flower Anemone is in the Linnæan class Polyandria, and order Trygynia; and in the Natural system it is in the order Ranunculacea. SOW BREAD. Cyclamen; Willd. Cyclame; Fr. Die erdscheibe; Ger. Varkensbrood; Dutch. Ciclamine; It. Panporcino; Sp. Port. Galteknappe; Dan. Svinbröd; Swed. Flowers of the field! how meet ye seem Man's frailty to portray; Blooming so fair in morning's beam, Passing at eve away. Pao de porco; Teach this, and oh! though brief your reign, Go, form a monitory wreath For youth's unthinking brow; Go, strew the path where age doth tread, MORAL OF FLOWERS. How fantastic do we observe nature sometimes to be! Here we have a plant which seems at first to be a group of ivy leaves laid upon the ground. But we see some curious shaped flowers, at the extremity of slender stems, about three inches in length, which are slightly recurved by the weight of the flowers. The petals of this flower, too, appear to be bent quite back. What can it be? Is it thus artificially arranged by some one who would wish to surprise us into the belief that we have found a new flower? Oh, no; it is the Sow Bread. How euphonical is the name! Surely, for such a curious flower; for such a delicate flower; for a flower allied with the ivy-leaf, that well-known emblem of friendship; for as such we find it apostrophized by certain fair authoresses: Sacred to friendship; we would place May meet all trials with a smile serene, In Summer's heat and Winter's cold is seen; for such a flower, we say, there must be some more pleasing name than Sow Bread. Botanists cannot have been at a loss for a name suited to its claims. Who has named it? Wildenow. He has called it Cyclamen, because of the many coils of its fruit-stalk. Such is the name of the genus; and this species is called hederafolium, on account of its ivy-shaped leaves. The Sow Bread, or Cyclamen, displays its flowers early in April, in groves and shady places. It has been noticed in a wild state in Kent and Suffolk. Though it is a very humble flower, a gardener is not satisfied with the appearance of his parterres in Spring, however well furnished with the first of Flora's train, except the Cyclamen be of the number. It puts forth its tender buds with the earliest denizens of the garden. Ere her sisters fair are waking, Deep in earth's dark bosom sleeping! Ere the chains of winter breaking Loose the streams their might is keeping, she expands her delicate blossoms, which hang gracefully at the extremity of the slightly curving stems, among the shining leaves, which, of themselves, always form an ornament. The exertions of the botanist have added to our store some exotic species, and these, treated as greenhouse plants, may be so managed as to furnish us with a succession of their flowers throughout the year. |