LETTER LIV. 



FLOWERS ANU XHEIB PROPRIETORS. 



And the honeysuckle ! 



The honeysuckle, whose odours I have so often breathed — 

 the honeysuckle, which intoxicates me — which every year brings 

 back so many sweet and melancholy thoughts — that, wherever 

 I chance to meet with it, the honeysuckle appears to me to be 

 my own particular flower. Well, it really belongs to the Sphinac 

 fuciformis, a moth, whose body is green, with wings trans- 

 parent in the centre, and of a brown colour round the edges ; 

 the caterpillar is green with a brownish red horn. 



It belongs to the moth sihilla, previously a green cater- 

 pillar, with its head and bristles inclined to red ; afterwards 

 a brown, white and dull-blue-coloured butterfly. 



It belongs to the blue sylvan, which is of a black-blue with 

 a white band; and to I don't know how many flies, and to a 

 particular species of aphis, &c. <fec. 



Do you fancy that the alder, yonder beautiful tree growing 

 on the verge of the rivulet, was only made to cover you with 

 its shade during the sultry hours of the day ? 



Fluminibus . . . alni 

 Nascuntur. 



Do you really suppose it has nothing else to do than to pro- 

 vide ladders, wooden shoes, and stakes for you ? No, no ; the 



