THE FOXGLOVE. 89 



Thy last, sole aid (which art can give) , 



The woe-worn parent seeks, and, hoping, clings 

 In tearless wretchedness to thee ; watches 

 With anxious heart thy subtle progress through 

 The day, and of thee fitful dreams through all 

 The night 



spare, if thou 



Canst, his hopeless grief; save worth, save beauty, 

 From an early grave. 



As a mere flower, the digitalis is a very band- 

 some plant ; and could we rely upon its yielding 

 the virtues it is considered to possess, or could we 

 regulate or control its influence, it would exist 

 unrivalled for beauty and worth amidst our island 

 plants. Why such a name as c( foxesgloves" was 

 bestowed upon this plant it is difficult to say, per- 

 haps from the bare resemblance to finger-cases 

 presented by its flowers : but I am not one of 

 those who cavil or jeer at the common, or (i vulgar 

 names," as we are in the habit of denominating the 

 unscientific appellations of plants; for we must re- 

 member that the culling of herbs and simples, and 

 compounding preparations from them, to relieve 

 the sufferings of nature, were the first rudiments of 

 all our knowledge, the most grateful exertion of 

 human talent, and, after food and clothing, the 

 most necessary objects of life. In ages of simpli- 

 city, when every man was the usual dispenser of 

 good or bad, benefit or injury, to his household or 

 his cattle ere the veterinary art was known, or the 

 drugs of other regions introduced, necessity looked 

 up to the products of our own clime, and the real 

 or fanciful virtues of them were called to the trial, 



