every other part of England, this is the wild peony, (Paonia corallina,) which lifts its red blossom on the island in the Severn, called Steep Holmes. It is stated by Gerarde, to have been found, in his time, near Gravesend; but if it grew there in those days, it has disappeared since. The rev. W. Lisle Bowles thus notices it :

"The cliff abrupt and high,

And desolate, and cold, and bleak, uplifts
Its barren brow! barren; but on its steep
One native flower is seen-the peony-

One flower which smiles in sunshine and in storm.
There still companionless, but yet not sad,

She has no sister of the summer field,

None to rejoice with her, when spring returns.
None, that in sympathy may bend its head

When evening winds blow hollow o'er the rock
In autumn's gloom!"

This flower is distinguished by the name of the entire-leaved peony, because its leaves, unlike those of the garden species, have straight uncut edges; the blossoms too are single.

The dark purple flag, or iris, (Iris fœtidissima,) called, when planted by gardeners, the gladwyn iris, may be found in May and June, on meadow lands and in thickets, in the south and west of England. In Devonshire it is a very common flower; it is not unfrequent in some parts of Kent. In the northern and midland counties, it is rare, and has not been known to grow Iwild in Scotland. This flower has a strong odour of roast beef; the leaves and roots steeped in beer, are taken as a medicine.

One or two species of Lychnis are now in bloom; and in meadows and corn-fields, the bright flowers of the red lychnis, or campion,

(Lychnis dioica) are very common. This is a flower shaped a little like that of the primrose, but the stem, when on moist lands, often rises two or three feet in height. There are many species of wild lychnis ; one is very commonly known, from its jagged petals, by the name of ragged robin, or cuckoo flower, (Lychnis flos cuculi;) it is frequent by streams, and its pink flowers are very similar to those of the common garden Clarkia. It is also called bachelor's buttons, because, as Gerarde says, "the similitude which these flowers have to the jagged cloth buttons, ancientlyworn in this kingdom, gave occasion to our gentlewomen, and other lovers of flowers, in those times, to call them bachelor's buttons."

The flower called golden saxifrage (Chrysosplenium oppositifolium) is now in bloom by river sides; and several of the true saxifrages, of which there are twenty-one wild species, are in flower during this month. The golden saxifrage is remarkable for its medicinal virtues, and is much esteemed as a salad, in the Vosges, where it is termed Cresson de roche. Several species of saxifrage grow on rocks or stones; one very common kind is often found on old walls, this is the rue-leaved saxifrage, (Saxifraga tridactylites,) which flowers in May; it has small white blossoms, and the leaves and stems are covered with thick viscid hairs. The white meadow saxifrage (Saxifraga granulata) is not uncommon now in meadows and on hedge banks; it has a much larger flower than the last species, and is remarkable for its root,

D

which consists of a number of small knobs, strung together, and of so bright a red as to resemble a string of coral beads. But the best known species is the flower called London pride, or none so pretty, which is so often the ornament of the cottage garden border, and which, perhaps, received the former name because it will grow on the little soil which borders the paved yards of the city, and is uninjured by smoke or fog. In Ireland, it is called St. Patrick's cabbage, and its old name of “ queen Anne's needlework" is expressive of its flower, which resembles a most beautiful embroidery, and well repays examination with a microscope.

The flowers of May may be concluded with some account of a plant, so fragrant and useful, that although it has not ornamental blossoms, its flower being on a catkin, or cone, yet it well deserves the notice of all who value our wild plants. The sweet gale, or Dutch myrtle, (Myrica gale,) grows on boggy, or moory grounds; its fragrance resembles that of a myrtle, but is much more powerful, and not only scents the air while growing, but, when gathered, perfumes the room. The Highlanders lay its branches in their linen chests, to scent their clothes, and to drive away the moth. The Welsh place it under their beds; and, in some parts of Scotland, it is strewed with the heather for the nightly couch. In Sweden it is used for a variety of purposes; a dye is made from it, and a common medicine, and it serves instead of hops to give the preserving principle to beer; but it is less wholesome than the hop.

In some parts where this plant is common it is used for brooms, and in the Isle of Ely it is so very abundant, that it is burned instead of common fagots.

The sweet gale is generally considered much like the myrtle in appearance; but the lighter green of its leaves, and the more crowded growth of the stem, lessen the resemblance. Like that plant, it is a small shrub. It is plentiful in Devonshire, and is commonly called the Devonshire myrtle; it grows in quantities on the dreary Dartmoor. When the sweet gale is boiled, a kind of wax, like bees' wax, rises to the surface of the water, and may be collected in large pieces. Tapers are sometimes made of this wax, and are so fragrant while burning, that they are very agreeable and salutary in a sick room.

These candles

are so much used in Prussia, that they are burned constantly in the royal household. The berry is about the size of a pea, and has, both when fresh and dried, a most grateful perfume.

JUNE.

"For who would sing the flowers of June,
Though from grey morn to blazing noor,
From blazing noon to dewy eve

The chaplet of his song he weave,

Would find his summer daylight fail,

And leave half told the pleasing tale."

The present month has a different character from that of the last. The flowers are even more numerous, the leaves thicker, the grass and foliage of a deeper green. Spring has quite yielded to summer. Nature, too, wears

а

calmer and more settled aspect; and, at noontime, on a June day, the birds sing but little, and few sounds are heard in the wood, save the humming of that busy little chemist, the bee, which is distilling honey from the flowers. And now, on the open land, we see that clear trembling vapour, which the Scripture describes as "the clear heat upon herbs," and which quivers and dances in the sunshine till the eye aches with gazing upon it.

There is no month in the year in which the carly morning and evening are more delightful than in this. It is in June that we see the appropriateness of the beautiful simile of the psalmist, when he spoke of the " Hope of Israel:" "He shall be as the light of the morning, when the sun riseth, even a morning without clouds; as the tender grass springing out of the earth by clear shining after rain."* "He shall come down like rain upon the mown grass; as showers that water the earth."+

Every part of a rural landscape in June is profuse in leaves and flowers. Even the surface of the stream is covered over with the green leaves of various plants. The white crowfoot still adorns the silver current; the duckweeds, (lemna,) which consist of thick and succulent green pieces, like leaves-called by botanists fronds-and of threads which descend from them, and hang floating in the water, form a thick herbage on the stagnant pool. The ducks and waterfowl, as they glide among it, gather plentiful meals from its juicy

* 2 Sam. xxiii. 4.

Psa. lxxii. 6.