6 



BRITISH MOSSES. 



every one as if it had a duty to fulfil in adding to the beauty of the spot. Here 

 is all the loveliness of the wildness, and all the richness of the cultivation, and all 

 the moral beauty of the cultivation also, as we know what toil and labour must 

 have been gone through before even yon little patch of corn, like a green 

 kerchief on the hill-side, could be set. Here the flowers grow, some in the clefts 

 of the rocks, some in little hollows below them ; some scattered over the slopes, 

 others by the foaming streams ; and the open ground of the heights is jewelled 

 with blossoms, pencilled eye-bright, and purple bosses of clover, and four-petaled 

 tormentil with its finely-cut leaves, and sprays of heath, and milkwort, every 

 blossom like a very tiny swallow held fast by its beak, purple, blue, pink, white, 

 among the fine, short, shining grass ; l flowers in a flat country never grow like 

 these. And the mosses themselves give such richness to every spot that not only 

 do they find the fairest homes, but, like grateful children, do their utmost to make 

 their homes more fair. 



These valleys are very much alike in general features, but every one has its 

 peculiar character. One will have the grandest rocks, another the wildest woods ; 

 one the most rushing torrent, another from its heights the fairest outlook of 

 winding stream, and green meadow, and sloping coppice, and far away blue cloud- 

 like chain of distant hills. And for a moment let us think of what the year brings 

 of change into their quiet. 



In winter there are mosses in all the brightness of wet green. Fleeces over one 

 rock, arabesques quaintly spreading on another, little brown threads rising from a 

 third, feather tapestries hung from every hollow, and long peninsulas of green 

 mapped out on the tree trunks. Later in the year, from among the moss rise 

 green rolls to be unfurled into arum leaves, green points to be spread out into 

 hyacinth stars ; here is a " red robin," pink flowers and bronze and scarlet leaves 

 lying on the emerald velvet, and there, just where the moss is brightest, and 

 sprinkled with diamond drops from the rill, crawls a vermilion speck of an insect, 

 come out to enjoy himself in the sun, and to make a little " bit of colour " for us. 

 And the moss itself is full of bird-like heads, drinking in every particle of moisture, 

 and not yet crisped by the sun. Wait until mid- April, and then go into the 



1 I know of not one description giving any idea of the peculiar enainel-like character of these 

 flowers, excepting in Dante, Purgatorio, Canto xxxviii. when he sees the Countess Matilda. 



