270 ON THE HONEYSUCKLE. 



trees and branches indented like a screw by the pressure. As the 

 gentle Desdemona clung to the dark warrior, so have we seen the 

 delicate and supple stalks of the woodbine endeavour to embrace 

 the trunk of the sturdy oak, and in the bold attempt it is often seen 

 thrown off to perish on the ground, unless caught by humbler 

 shrubs, who seem proud to display the flowery festoons which the 

 monarch of our woods had rejected. So have we seen modern 

 Desdemonas turn from support within their reach, aspiring to 

 climb by means too large for their grasp ; they have been drawn 

 up, in weak hopes, by a slight hold, which the first winds severed 

 throwing them to the earth, too feeble to catch the most lowly 

 plant. 



We love to see shrubs " o'er-canopied with luscious woodbine," 

 but in the oak of the forest its beauties wither in the shade of its 

 too grand supporter. 



The name of Honeysuckle, we presume, was given to this plant, 

 from the trick of children, who draw out the trumpet-shaped 

 corollas from the calyx, to suck the honey from the nectary. 



This flower is what is termed a tubulose nectary, and the sweet 

 liquid laying at the bottom is secure from the reach of the indus- 

 trious bee ; but the hawk-moth, a species of the sphinx, hovers 

 over these flowers in the evening, and with its long tongue extracts 

 the honey from the very bottom of the flower. Other insects that 

 have not the advantage of so lengthened a tongue, tap the bulbs of 

 the flower, by making a puncture towards the bottom, and then 

 revel in the luxurious sweet. 



The nectary of a flower is that part of the blossom which con- 

 tains a liquid honey, and we are inclined to think that this sac- 

 charine juice is distilled from the plant, and conveyed to the 

 nectary for the double purpose of giving nourishment to the parts 

 of fructification and decomposition to the farina. 



" These, nature's works, the curious mind employ, 

 Inspire a soothing melancholy joy." 



The woodbine has a light and elegant, but negligent air, better 

 calculated to ornament rural groves than to embellish stately gar- 

 dens, and a more suitable climber for the rustic porch than the 

 modern portico. Cunningham has given it to the Cottage of Con- 

 tent. 



" Green rushes were strewed on her floor, 



Her casement sweet woodbines crept wantonly round, 

 And decked the sod seats at her door." 



