LETTER XXVI. 



AN OLD WALL. 



I DO not dislike walls; it is sometimes a good and con- 

 soling reflection to be in a well-secured enclosure, alone with 

 perfumes, flowers, trees, the heavens, the air, the sun, stars, 

 remembrances and reveries, and to know that nobody can 

 come and disturb you. I like walls, but I don't like white 

 walls j I like nothing but old walls. I have one here, along 

 which the course of my journey brings me, and which pleases 

 me exceedingly. It is just as old as it ought to be; if it 

 were a little older it would be given up to the mercies of the 

 bricklayers, who would introduce all sorts of new bricks or 

 white stones. As it is, it is grey and black, and is covered with 

 twenty species of mosses and lichens. In the crevices of its 

 top extends an absolute crown of yellow wallflowers and ferns. 

 At its foot vegetate pellitory and nettles, in all their beautifal 

 green; little crevices serve as an asylum for the lizards which 

 run over the wall. Among the nettles live many caterpillars, 

 which there spin brilliant webs and come forth butterflies. 



Let us examine the nettles. The flowers of the nettle 

 have the male and female blossom separate. The stamens of 

 the males, in the season, perform an evolution which throws 

 out a little shower of dust upon the female flowers. The 

 hairs which cover nettles have at their base a little gland, 

 in which is formed, by a portion of its sap, a caustic juice; 



