§J The ^Afternoon of the Tear $£ 



discovered it in an old fir wood at Mearns in that neigh- 

 bourhood and communicated wild specimens, along with 

 an accurate coloured drawing, to the Linnaean Society, 

 June 2nd, 1795. The Linnaea grows in dry, stony, mossy 

 woods. The flowers are said to be very fragrant at night, 

 smelling like the meadowsweet. Linnaeus in Critica 

 Botanic a, p. 80, has traced a pretty fanciful analogy 

 between his own early fate and this " little northern 

 plant, long overlooked, depressed, abject, flowering early," 

 and we may now add more honoured in its name than 

 any other.' 



No evening scents, I think, have the fascination of the 

 delicate fragrance of the evening primroses, especially 

 that of the commonest variety. Those pale moons ir- 

 radiate the twilight with their sweet elusive perfumes. 

 Like the flowers themselves their scent as night draws in 

 becomes full of mystery and holds our imagination 

 captive. And the scent of limes, what an exquisite scent 

 this is — as exquisite as the music of the trees. To me the 

 loveliest music in the world is the music of the evening 

 breeze in the lime trees on a July evening. Each one of 

 us, I suppose, dreams their own dreams and reads their 

 own thoughts in the wondrously varied music of trees. 

 Just as with the music of bells. ' He that hears bells will 

 make them sound what he list ; as the soul thinketh, so 

 the bell clinketh.' The sound of the wind amongst beeches 

 is a glorious sound, deep, rich and full. It is magnificent, 

 but it is a song of this earth. The music of limes is a far- 

 away melody reaching to the stars, a music which sweeps 

 our thoughts to those stupendous flowers set by Almighty 

 God in the gardens of space. Are other worlds wrapped 

 in mantles of beauty like this earth ? Sometimes one 



I l89 



