DIANTHUS CASIUS. 507 
the rare plant of the piace, seemed to be entirely exterminated 
from its wild native locality. I had gathered it there in 1814, 
and have still the specimen by me; but in June last I could not 
see a single specimen of the plant in a wild state, high or low,— 
not even in the inaccessible parts of the cliffs. Now as Chedder 
is, I believe, the only well-authenticated station for the plant in 
Britain, the next generation of botanists will perhaps begin to 
doubt whether it is, or even was, a genuine native. I do not 
mean to say that Dianthus cesius is not still to be procured at 
Chedder ; far from it: you may have plenty of it for sixpence or 
less money; moreover, it grows in profusion in most of the 
cottage-gardens and on the walls about the village, and I can 
scarcely believe that it does not still exist in some of the more 
precipitous parts of the cliffs; but after diligent search in June 
last, I was unable to get a truly wild specimen, or even to see one 
on portions of the rocks out of reach. I strongly suspect that 
the Pink has been wantonly destroyed, —at least from all the 
more accessible parts of the cliffs,—in order to drive a trade by 
selling it. You must buy it of its destroyers, or be content with- 
out a No lady or gentleman, having the air of a visitor about 
them, can now pass along to view the scenery without being ab- 
solutely mobbed by a number of most importunate old women, 
who come out to you with bundles of the Pink and baskets of 
the seed, ready made up, which they offer you for sale. Enter- 
taining, as I did most strongly, the above suspicion, I was resolved 
not to deal with these mercenary ancients, and accordingly helped 
myself to what I wanted from the walls in the village ;—not that 
I would grudge giving three times the sum asked for the bundles, 
to a person who would direct me to the spot where the plant 
grows wild, and let me gather it for myself, for there is a plea- 
sure in so doing, which is not to be attained by the mere pur- 
chase of a rare plant that has been cultivated and cooped up in a 
garden. 
It is unfortunate for the cause of Natural History when its 
objects become articles of money-making—of bargain and sale: 
the practice not only opens a door to all sorts of frauds and im- 
position (as entomologists well know), but it tends also, if I may 
so say, to falsify Natural History, and to exterminate rare and in- 
teresting species from their native localities. I have been credibly 
informed that, a few years ago, a dealer in living Ferns went to 
