284 MISCELLANEOUS SECTION. 



strongly recommend it to all our readers. The following extract on 

 the " human clock" will convey somewhat of its interesting style : — 



" The flowering of plants takes place at different periods of the 

 year, and thus a calendar of the seasons may be constructed. By 

 observing the exact time when plants in the same garden flower in dif- 

 ferent years, an indication will be given of the nature of the season. 

 The Mezereon and Snowdrop, Hepatica, and "Winter Aconite, put 

 forth their flowers in February in this country, the Primrose and 

 Crocus in March, the Cowslip and Daffodil in April, the great mass of 

 plants in May and June, many in July, August, and September, the 

 Meadow Saffron and Strawberry tree in October and November, and 

 the Christmas Rose in December. Besides annual periods, some flowers 

 exhibit diurnal periods of expansion and closing. On this principle 

 Linnaeus constructed what he called a floral clock, in which each hour 

 was marked by the opening of some flower. . . . Richter, in his 

 remarks on Linnaeus' floral clock, contrasts it with the periodical occu- 

 pation of man at different hours of the day. ' I believe,' lie says, ' the 

 flower-clock of Linnaeus, in Upsal (Horologium Flora), whose wheels 

 are the sun and earth, and whose index-figures are flowers, of which 

 one always awakens and opens later than another, was what secretly 

 suggested my conception of the human clock. I formerly occupied 

 two chambers in Schreeraw, in the middle of the market-place ; from 

 the front room I overlooked the whole market-place and the royal 

 buildings, and from the back one the botanical garden. Whoever now 

 dwells in these two rooms possesses an excellent harmony, arranged to 

 his hand, between the flower-clock in the garden, and the human-clock 

 in the market-place. At three o'clock in the morning the Yellow 

 Meadow Goatsbeard opens ; and brides awake, and the stable-boy 

 begins to rattle and feed the horses beneath the lodger. At four 

 o'clock the little Hawkweed awakes, choristers going to the cathedral, 

 who are clocks with chimes, and the bakers. At five, kitchen-maids, 

 dairy-maids, and Butter-cups awake. At six, the Sow-thistle and 

 cocks. At seven o'clock many of the ladies'-maids are awake in the 

 palace, the Chicory in my botanical garden, and some tradesmen. At 

 eight o'clock all the colleges awake, and the little yellow Mouse-ear. 

 At nine o'clock the female nobility already begin to stir — the Mari- 

 gold, and even many r young ladies who have come from the country on 

 a visit, begin to look out of their windows. Between ten and eleven 

 o'clock the court ladies and the whole staff of lords of the bedchamber, 

 the green Colewort and the Alpine Dandelion, and the reader of the 

 princess, rouse themselves out of their morning's sleep ; and the whole 

 palace, considering that the morning sun gleams so brightly to-day 

 from the lofty sky through the coloured silk curtains, curtails a little 

 of its slumber. At twelve o'clock the prince, at one his wife and Car- 

 nation, have their eyes open in their flower-vase. What awakes late 

 in the afternoon at four o'clock is only the red Hawkweed and the 

 night watchmen as cuckoo-clock, and these two only tell the time as 

 evening clocks and moon-clocks. From the hot eyes of the unfortunate 

 man who, like the Jalap plant (Mirabilis Jalapa), first opens them at 

 five o'clock, we will turn our own in pity aside. It is a rich man who 

 has taken the jalap, and who only exchanges the fever-fancies of being 

 griped with hot pincers for waking gripes. I could never know when 



