THE BERWICKSHIRE COAST 
169 
own, or, indeed, any other language, _you may even see the 
worker at his work. No one who is capable of judging can 
observe the work without being convinced that the action is a 
purely mechanical one, and that the idea of some chemical 
solvent is a “fond thing vainly imagined;” indeed, no chemist 
would maintain it for a single moment. We have not as yet 
found the “ universal alkahest.” Here and there on the clift 
we observe a very curious sight, one not to be seen in every 
day’s walk. In the very damp places we see lovely cushions of 
bright, fresh-looking moss, one of the Hypnums : when we get 
close to it, we see that the moss has in the lower part been 
changed into stone, which, however, retains all the external 
structure of the plant, only the extremity of which is growing. 
In the course of ages this forms a great mass of calcareous tufa, 
which might be mistaken for a mineral but for its organic form. 
In this case the plant helps in the deposition of the carbonate of 
lime by withdrawing the extra carbonic acid. In the case of the 
formation of the stalactite, the water and the carbonic acid are 
removed by evaporation. This is an example that nature attains 
the same end in different ways. Close by we see splendid 
specimens of the marsh marigold, the “winking, Mary buds” of 
Shakespeare. This plant is found from the seashore up to near 
the top of our highest mountains, as Ben Lawers, &c. At low 
elevations it has many stems and many large and handsome 
flowers ; on the hill-tops it has only one stem and one flower, 
with all the parts of the plant small in proportion, so small, 
indeed, that it is called “ minor,” though there can be little 
doubt that the difference is due to the changed circumstances. 
We cannot hope to understand either plants or animals unless 
we know and take into account the surrounding conditions. 
Alongside the marigold is another of Shakespeare’s plants, the 
cuckoo flower, with its handsome pale lilac-coloured flowers. 
This plant, common in wet places, sometimes assumes a very 
strange form. Instead of the pistil ending the axis, the latter is 
prolonged and produces another flower, and that again is suc- 
ceeded by other flowers, until we have, perhaps, six or eight 
one above the other, reminding one of what gardeners call “hose 
in hose.” 
In places on the coast we find the curious horned poppy, with 
its handsome, much-cut, glaucous leaves and bright yellow flower, 
and its long horned fruit, so different from the common idea of 
the fruit of the poppy that few, save the botanist, would take it 
to be one of the order. 
On some of the green banks we see the large white flowers of 
the granulated saxifrage, with the curious granules at the base of 
the root leaves. This plant has a very close relation to one of 
the rarest of our native plants, the Saxifmga cernua of Ben 
Lawers. In the wet ground near at hand we see the pink flowers 
and hairy stem of the marsh sedum {Sedim villosum) ; alongside is 
growing the common butterwort, with its imperial purple flower. 
