land. Sometimes the plant was called shavegrass; and comb-makers and other workmen who wanted a polish to the articles they made, rubbed them with its rough hard substance; but it was not known till recently that this hardness was caused by an abundance of flint in this plant. One species of horsetail (Equisetum hyemale) is still much used by whitesmiths and cabinet-makers in their work, and also by the Northumbrian dairymaids in cleaning their milk-pails. It grows in our bogs, but not very generally; and as the swampy grounds of Holland furnish it in great quantities, it is imported hither from that country, and called Dutch rushes. Our great water horsetail, (Equisetum fluviatile,) very frequent in ponds, was a common article of food among the Romans. The reindeer, which will not feed upon hay, will eat this plant.

And now the white bunches of flowers on the elder tree, are gradually giving way to the green elder-berries, which in a few weeks will be quite black. The elder (Sambucus nigra) is very common in woods and hedges, and its wood is so hard that Pliny said of the plant that it was all skin and bones. The berries are poisonous to poultry, yet they make an excellent wine. The Romans were accustomed to stain their hair black with their juice; and these fruits, as well as the bark and leaves, are used medicinally. So highly did the celebrated physician of Leyden, Boerhaave, estimate the properties of this plant, that he never passed

it without taking off his hat-not so much, it is to be hoped, in veneration of the tree itself, as in thankfulness to the God who made it. The young shoots of this tree are often used as a pickle, and the elder flower ointment is so general an application, especially in villages, that most persons know it. The scent of the elder flower is very powerful, but not very pleasant. This is one of the few trees which are not hurt by exposure to the sea breeze.

Now, too, the pretty rose-like flower of the bramble, (Rubus fruticosus,) with its "gauzy satin frill," is waving on the long flexible sprays. To many, beside the poet, the bramble tells a tale of other days-a tale of youthful pleasures, when roaming in country lanes and fields, we gathered blackberries for our food, and when

"The linnet from the self-same bush

Came after us to dine."

And, in later years, when the graver concerns of life occupy us, and, perhaps, its trials weigh heavily upon the spirits, it is well to be recalled, for a moment, to the simple and inexpensive sources of joy which blessed our childhood. The bramble, or blackberry, is, when eaten ripe, a perfectly wholesome fruit. Country people often make this fruit into pies and tarts, and it forms a good and cheap preserve, as it requires not more than half the quantity of sugar which is used for other preserved fruits, and the coarsest sugar may be used in making it. The red muscat of Toulon, is said

to receive its red colour from the blackberry; and in several parts of the south of France this fruit is so large and juicy, that it is commonly called, pinte de vin. The bramble leaves and stems are used in dyeing, and the young tops and leaves were a common salad at the tables of the ancient Greeks.

One common use of the bramble stem must have often attracted our attention, when we have wandered in the quiet village churchyard. Its young shoots serve to bind down the sods, under which repose the "young men and maidens, old men and children."

"O'er some of these

The flight of centuries has passed-alas!

Above the wept remains of others, yet

The fresh-reared hillock waves not in the wind
Its friendly robe of green."

The bramble was, of old, used for this purpose; for Jeremy Taylor, when commenting on the certainty of man's mortality, says, "The autumn, with its fruits, prepares disorders for us, and the winter's cold turns them into sharp discases; and the spring brings flowers to strew upon our hearse; and the summer gives green turf and brambles to bind upon our graves."

The thorny branches of this plant exhibit many a reddish green spray of leaves in winter. It is a native both of cold and hot climates, and found wild in every country in Europe. Several species of rubus, known by the name of dewberry, cloudberry, and bilberry, are common in Britain; and the raspberry (Rubus idaus) is

occasionally found wild in our woods, and was known to the older writers as the raspis, or hindberry. The Arctic bramble, (Rubus arcticus,) which is common in Scotland, bears a fruit much liked by Scottish children.

The bramble is the subject of the oldest apologue extant, when Jotham, bitterly reproaching the men of Shechem for their ingratitude to his father's house, narrated to them, in the eastern manner, the parable of "The trees choosing a king."*

AUGUST.

"The scarlet pimpernel creeps here and there,
Amid the corn the crimson poppies blush,
Still on the brooks gleam water-lilies rare,
And purple loosestrife and the flowering rush:
Still honeysuckle blooms perfume the gale,

Where bryony leaves adorn the hedgerows green,
Where peep the scabious and the campion pale,
With trumpet-like convolvuli between;

The blue campanula and chicory wild,

And yellow toad-flax, variegate the plain,
And with a thankful heart and sense beguiled,
We look upon the fields of ripening grain."
H. G. ADAMS.

August, with its flowers and fruits, wears a rich and plenteous aspect. The brown corn, now ready for the sickle, is waving over the field; the broad and leafy branches of the trees afford a shade to the tired cattle; the golden cones of the hop are twining round the tall poles; and the orchard trees are laden with *Judges ix. 8-15.

ruddy fruits. The flowers look gay and brilliant, for autumn flowers are mostly yellow, and they seem to cluster in such abundance that none would suspect that they are far fewer in variety than in the preceding months. Perhaps, twice the number of species of wild flowers might be found by the botanist during the month of June than he could find now; and though many summer blossoms still linger, yet those strictly peculiar to August are comparatively so few that we can but remark that the year is making rapid progress to its close.

One of the tribes of the plants most likely to attract our eye during this month, by the great number of its flowers, is the hawkweed. They form a family of plants very puzzling to the botanist, by the resemblance of the species to each other. The hawkweeds may be described generally as flowers shaped like the dandelion, their leaves are also often similar in form, but the whole structure of the flower is Иighter and more delicate. Some of the blossoms are very small, others as large as a marigold, and they vary in all shades of yellow, from a deep bright orange colour to the pale lemon tint which distinguishes one of our commonest and prettiest kinds. This species is the mouse-ear hawkweed, (Hieracium pilosella,) and it may at once be known from the others by its paler hue, scarcely deeper than that of the primrose, and also by its creeping scions. It grows on dry pastures, and unless