THE PURPLE LOOSESTRIFE— continued. 
has scattered leaves, solitary axillary flowers, which are all similar and have only six 
stamens. L. Salicaria Linne, on the other hand, is a much larger plant, often three 
or four feet high, with opposite, or sometimes whorled, leaves with a cordate base ; 
hexamerous flowers in a spike of sessile cymes or glomerules, just as in the Family 
Labiate ; and twelve stamens in two whorls of six. Three distinct forms occur, 
often growing side by side and in equal numbers. One of these — a large, coarse, 
downy plant with dull flowers — has a style shorter than either whorl of stamens : a 
second has the style intermediate in length between the two whorls of stamens ; and 
the third, a slender, glabrous plant with narrow leaves and bright flowers, has the style 
longer than all the stamens. The long stamens in the first two forms have green 
anthers, the others being yellow : the longer the stamens the larger are the pollen- 
grains in their anthers ; and the longer the style the larger are the papillae of its 
stigma. Darwin showed by experiment that the species does not set seed if insect 
visits are prevented, and that in a wild state it is mainly cross-pollinated by a bee 
Cilissa melanura ; and he was the first to explain the trimorphism, or, as it is now 
termed, trimorphic heterogony of the species. The position of the two rows of 
stamens and the stigma in either form corresponds to that of the head, thorax, and 
abdomen of the bee ; and most fertile seed is obtained when a stigma is pollinated 
with pollen from a stamen of the same length as its style, i.e. from one of the two 
other forms. Knuth suggests that the green anthers of the long stamens may 
serve as a protection against pollen-eating insects by appearing immature. 
Though not the “ long purples” of Ophelia’s garland, Lythrum is obviously the 
“Gay long-purples with its tufty spike,’’ 
of John Clare and the “ long purples of the dale ” of Tennyson. Where it grows 
with its yellow-flowered namesake, with Comfrey, Meadow-sweet, and Forget-me-not, 
it is often a strikingly beautiful feature in our river-side landscape. As John 
Davidson sings, 
“that spies may never harass 
In their baths 
The shining naiads, purple arras 
Of the loosestrife veils the paths.’* 
From English stream-sides the plant spread to Australia, where it has become 
naturalised; and about 1870, a factory near the sources of the Walkill using 
Australian wool, the Loosestrife made its appearance on the banks of that 
American stream and in a few years had spread down stream to the Hudson 
and both up and down that river and its various affluents. 
