The Natural History of Selborne Volume II Part 7

Vegetation is highly worthy of our attention; and in itself is of the utmost consequence to mankind, and productive of many of the greatest comforts and elegances of life. To plants we owe timber, bread, beer, honey, wine, oil, linen, cotton, etc., what not only strengthens our hearts, and exhilarates our spirits, but what secures us from inclemencies of weather and adorns our persons. Man, in his true state of nature, seems to be subsisted by spontaneous vegetation; in middle climes, where gra.s.ses prevail, he mixes some animal food with the produce of the field and garden; and it is towards the polar extremes only that, like his kindred bears and wolves, he gorges himself with flesh alone, and is driven to what hunger has never been known to compel the very beasts, to prey on his own species.

The productions of vegetation have had a vast influence on the commerce of nations, and have been the great promoters of navigation, as may be seen in the articles of sugar, tea, tobacco, opium, ginsing, betel, paper, etc. As every climate has its peculiar produce our natural wants bring on a mutual intercourse; so that by means of trade each distinct part is supplied with the growth of every lat.i.tude. But, without the knowledge of plants and their culture, we must have been content with our hips and haws, without enjoying the delicate fruits of India and the salutiferous drugs of Peru.

Instead of examining the minute distinctions of every various species of each obscure genus, the botanist should endeavour to make himself acquainted with those that are useful. You shall see a man readily ascertain every herb of the field, yet hardly know wheat from barley, or at least one sort of wheat or barley from another.

But of all sorts of vegetation the gra.s.ses seem to be most neglected; neither the farmer nor the grazier seem to distinguish the annual from the perennial, the hardy from the tender, nor the succulent and nutritive from the dry and juiceless.

The study of gra.s.ses would be of great consequence to a northerly and grazing kingdom. The botanist that could improve the sward of the district where he lived would be a useful member of society: to raise a thick turf on a naked soil would be worth volumes of systematic knowledge; and he would be the best commonwealth's man that could occasion the growth of "two blades of gra.s.s where one alone was seen before."

I am, etc.

LETTER XLI.

SELBORNE, _July_ 3_rd_, 1778.

Dear Sir,--In a district so diversified with such a variety of hill and dale, aspects, and soils, it is no wonder that great choice of plants should be found. Chalks, clays, sands, sheep-walks and downs, bogs, heaths, woodlands, and champaign fields, cannot but furnish an ample Flora. The deep rocky lanes abound with _filices_, and the pastures and moist woods with _fungi_. If in any branch of botany we may seem to be wanting, it must be in the large aquatic plants, which are not to be expected on a spot far removed from rivers, and lying up amidst the hill country at the spring heads. To enumerate all the plants that have been discovered within our limits would be a needless work; but a short list of the more rare, and the spots where they are to be found, may be neither unacceptable nor unentertaining:--

_h.e.l.leborus foetidus_, stinking h.e.l.lebore, bear's foot, or setterworth,--all over the High Wood and Coneycroft Hanger: this continues a great branching-plant the winter through, blossoming about January, and is very ornamental in shady walks and shrubberies. The good women give the leaves powdered to children troubled with worms; but it is a violent remedy, and ought to be administered with caution.

_h.e.l.leborus viridis_, green h.e.l.lebore,--in the deep stony lane on the left hand just before the turning to Norton Farm, and at the top of Middle Dorton under the hedge: this plant dies down to the ground early in autumn, and springs again about February, flowering almost as soon as it appears above the ground.

_Vaccinium oxycoccos_, creeping bilberries, or cranberries,--in the bogs of Bin's Pond.

_Vaccinium myrtillus_, whortle, or bleaberries--on the dry hillocks of Wolmer Forest.

_Drosera rotundifolia_, round-leaved sundew--in the bogs of Bin's Pond.

_Drosera longifolia_, long-leaved sundew--in the bogs of Bin's Pond.

_Comarum pal.u.s.tre_, purple comarum, or marsh cinquefoil--in the bogs of Bin's Pond.

_Hyperic.u.m androsoemum_, Tutsan, St. John's Wort--in the stony, hollow lanes.

_Vinca minor_, less periwinkle--in Selborne Hanger and Shrub Wood.

_Monotropa hypopithys_, yellow monotropa, or birds' nest--in Selborne Hanger under the shady beeches, to whose roots it seems to be parasitical, at the north-west end of the Hanger.

_Chlora perfoliata_, _Blackstonia perfoliata_, _Hudsoni_, perfoliated yellow-wort--on the banks in the King's Field.

_Paris quadrifolia_, herb of Paris, true-love, or oneberry--in the Church Litten Coppice.

_Chrysosplenium oppositifolium_, opposite golden saxifrage--in the dark and rocky hollow lanes.

_Gentiana amarella_, autumnal gentian or fellwort--on the Zigzag and Hanger.

_Lathraea squamaria_, tooth-wort--in the Church Litten Coppice under some hazels near the foot-bridge, in Tr.i.m.m.i.n.g's garden hedge, and on the dry wall opposite Grange Yard.

_Dipsacus pilosus_, small teasel--in the Short and Long Lith.

_Lathyrus sylvestris_, narrow-leaved, or wild lathyrus--in the bushes at the foot of the Short Lith, near the path.

_Ophrys spiralis_, ladies' traces--in the Long Lith, and towards the south corner of the common.

_Ophrys nidus avis_, birds' nest ophrys--in the Long Lith under the shady beeches among the dead leaves; in Great Dorton among the bushes, and on the Hanger plentifully.

_Serapias latifolia_, h.e.l.leborine--in the High Wood under the shady beeches.

_Daphne laureola_, spurge laurel--in Selborne Hanger and the High Wood.

_Daphne mezereum_, the mezereon--in Selborne Hanger among the shrubs, at the south-east end above the cottages.

_Lycoperdon tuber_, truffles--in the Hanger and High Wood.

_Sambucus ebulus_, dwarf elder, walwort, or danewort--among the rubbish and ruined foundations of the Priory.

Of all the propensities of plants, none seem more strange than their different periods of blossoming. Some produce their flowers in the winter, or very first dawnings of spring, many when the spring is established, some at midsummer, and some not till autumn. When we see the _h.e.l.leborus foetidus_ and _h.e.l.leborus niger_ blowing at Christmas, the _h.e.l.leborus hyemalis_ in January, and the _h.e.l.leborus viridis_ as soon as ever it emerges out of the ground, we do not wonder, because they are kindred plants that we expect should keep pace the one with the other; but other congenerous vegetables differ so widely in their time of flowering, that we cannot but admire. I shall only instance at present in the _crocus sativus_, the vernal and the autumnal crocus, which have such an affinity, that the best botanists only make them varieties of the same genus, of which there is only one species, not being able to discern any difference in the corolla, or in the internal structure. Yet the vernal crocus expands its flowers by the beginning of March at farthest, and often in very rigorous weather, and cannot be r.e.t.a.r.ded but by some violence offered; while the autumnal (the saffron) defies the influence of the spring and summer, and will not blow till most plants begin to fade and run to seed. This circ.u.mstance is one of the wonders of the creation, little noticed because a common occurrence, yet ought not to be overlooked on account of its being familiar, since it would be as difficult to be explained as the most stupendous phenomenon in nature.

"Say, what impels, amidst surrounding snow Congeal'd, the crocus, flamy bud to glow?

Say, what r.e.t.a.r.ds, amidst the summer's blaze, Th' autumnal bulb, till pale, declining days?

The G.o.d OF SEASONS; whose pervading power Controls the sun, or sheds the fleecy shower: He bids each flower His quickening word obey, Or to each lingering bloom enjoins delay."

LETTER XLII.

"Omnibus animalibus reliquis certus et uniusmodi, et in suo cuique genere incessus est: aves solae vario meatu feruntur, et in terra, et in aere."

SELBORNE, _Aug._ 7_th_, 1778.

Dear Sir,--A good ornithologist should be able to distinguish birds by their air as well as by their colours and shape, on the ground as well as on the wing, and in the bush as well as in the hand. For, though it must not be said that every species of birds has a manner peculiar to itself, yet there is somewhat in most _genera_ at least, that at first sight discriminates them, and enables a judicious observer to p.r.o.nounce upon them with some certainty. Put a bird in motion

"--Et vera incessu patuit--"

Thus kites and buzzards sail round in circles with wings expanded and motionless; and it is from their gliding manner that the former are still called in the north of England gleads, from the Saxon verb glidan, to glide. The kestrel, or wind-hover, has a peculiar mode of hanging in the air in one place, his wings all the while being briskly agitated. Hen- harriers fly low over heaths or fields of corn, and beat the ground regularly like a pointer or setting-dog. Owls move in a buoyant manner, as if lighter than the air; they seem to want ballast. There is a peculiarity belonging to ravens that must draw the attention even of the most incurious; they spend all their leisure time in striking and cuffing each other on the wing in a kind of playful skirmish, and, when they move from one place to another, frequently turn on their backs with a loud croak, and seem to be falling to the ground. When this odd gesture betides them, they are scratching themselves with one foot, and thus lose the centre of gravity. Rooks sometimes dive and tumble in a frolicsome manner; crows and daws swagger in their walk; wood-p.e.c.k.e.rs fly _volatu undoso_, opening and closing their wings at every stroke, and so are always rising or falling in curves. All of this genus use their tails, which incline downward, as a support while they run up trees. Parrots, like all other hooked-clawed birds, walk awkwardly, and make use of their bill as a third foot, climbing and descending with ridiculous caution.

All the _gallinoe_ parade and walk gracefully, and run nimbly, but fly with difficulty, with an impetuous whirring, and in a straight line.

Magpies and jays flutter with powerless wings, and make no despatch; herons seem enc.u.mbered with too much sail for their light bodies, but these vast hollow wings are necessary in carrying burdens, such as large fishes and the like; pigeons, and particularly the sort called smiters, have a way of clas.h.i.+ng their wings the one against the other over their backs with a loud snap; another variety, called tumblers, turn themselves over in the air. Some birds have movements peculiar to the season of love. Thus ringdoves, though strong and rapid at other times, yet in the spring hang about on the wing in a toying and playful manner; thus the c.o.c.k-snipe while breeding, forgetting his former flight, fans the air like the wind-hover; and the green-finch in particular, exhibits such languis.h.i.+ng and faltering gestures as to appear like a wounded and dying bird; the king-fisher darts along like an arrow; fern-owls, or goat-suckers, glance in the dusk over the tops of trees like a meteor; starlings, as it were, swim along, while missel-thrushes use a wild and desultory flight; swallows sweep over the surface of the ground and water, and distinguish themselves by rapid turns and quick evolutions; swifts dash round in circles; and the bank-martin moves with frequent vacillations like a b.u.t.terfly. Most of the small birds fly by jerks, rising and falling as they advance. Most small birds hop; but wagtails and larks walk moving their legs alternately. Skylarks rise and fall perpendicularly as they sing; woodlarks hang poised in the air; and t.i.tlarks rise and fall in large curves, singing in their descent. The white-throat uses odd jerks and gesticulations over the tops of hedges and bushes. All the duck-kind waddle; divers and auks walk as if fettered, and stand erect on their tails: these are the _compedes_ of Linnaeus. Geese and cranes, and most wild fowls, move in figured flights, often changing their position. The secondary _remiges_ of Tringae, wild-ducks, and some others, are very long, and give their wings, when in motion, a hooked appearance. Dabchicks, moorhens, and coots, fly erect, with their legs hanging down, and hardly make any despatch. The reason is plain, their wings are placed too forward out of the true centre of gravity, as the legs of auks and divers are situated too backward.

LETTER XLIII.

SELBORNE, _Sept._ 9_th_, 1778.

Dear Sir,--From the motion of birds, the transition is natural enough to their notes and language, of which I shall say something. Not that I would pretend to understand their language like the vizier; who, by recital of a conversation which pa.s.sed between two owls, reclaimed a sultan, before delighting in conquest and devastation; but I would be thought only to mean that many of the winged tribes have various sounds and voices adapted to express their various pa.s.sions, wants and feelings; such as anger, fear, love, hatred, hunger and the like. All species are not equally eloquent; some are copious and fluent as it were in their utterance while others are confined to a few important sounds: no bird, like the fish kind, is quite mute, though some are rather silent. The language of birds is very ancient and, like other ancient modes of speech, very elliptical; little is said, but much is meant and understood.