Cadwallader Colden with Peter Collinson, Sfc. 129 



quarters, the industrious collection of forty years. Some or other 

 of them, all the year round and all the seasons through, are de- 

 lighting my eyes ; for in the depth of our winter, the plants from 

 the Alps, Siberia, and the mountains of Asia, exhibit their pretty 

 flowers and anticipate the spring ; the Black Hellebore, with its 

 large white flowers, the Aconite with its golden clusters — these 

 show themselves before Christmas ; for that reason the first is called 

 the Christmas Rose. Primroses and Polyanthus, Wall-flowers, 

 and some Violets, and single Anemones, flower all winter, unless 

 a snow happens to fall, which is seldom. It seems a paradox, 

 (considering our latitude,) to tell foreigners that vegetation never 

 ceases in England. I am this instant come in from seeing your 

 Skunk-weed ; its early appearance and its singularly spotted 

 flowers, attract the notice of every one. It hath been now a 

 month in flower ; by this you may guess the difference of sea- 

 sons with you and us. But this winter (if it may be called so) 

 is very different from all that has been remembered. We have 

 had as mild and warm, but then, it hath been dry, sunny, and 

 pleasant ; whereas this hath been continued (I may say daily) 

 rains : if a few frosty mornings, certainly rain at night, moist 

 and warm, but attended with hurricane winds, and the air so be- 

 clouded it was rare to see the face of the sun. The consequences 

 of such inclement weather hath been more shipwrecks and inun- 

 dations than ever was known in one winter. It is very affecting 

 to read the very deplorable accounts from time to time : the loss 

 of sheep and cattle drowned, advances much the price of pro- 

 visions ; but, thank God, from the plenty of last year (though a 

 bad harvest) our bread keeps under twelve pence a peck loaf, and 

 we have been able to supply vast quantities to our indigent neigh- 

 bors. I am assured some weeks eight or ten thousand quarters 

 of wheat have been shipped off for France, Portugal, Spain, and 

 Italy : this trade brings in great riches, being a surplus that we 

 can spare without prejudice to ourselves. When I look back 

 and consider the poor state of agriculture here in the last cen- 

 tury, it affords a pleasure I cannot express, to see our extensive 

 improvements made in this age. Then the city of London im- 

 ported annually Polish wheat from Dantzic, (to the enriching 

 foreigners,) to fill our granaries ; for our culture of wheat was so 

 sparing, that if a crop failed a famine was like to ensue. To 

 prevent this terrible calamity, the city prudently sold it out one 



Vol. 5Liv, No. 1.— Oct.-Dec. 1842. 17 



