B1LLARDIERA SCANDE NS.— CLIMBING BILLARDIERA. 
Class V. PENTANDRIA. Order Y. PENTAGYNIA. 
Natural Order, PITTOSPOREiE. 
1. Calyx. 2. One of the Petals. 3 The five Stamens. 4. The woolly Ovarium, terminated by the smooth Style and simple Stigma. 
A small slightly climbing evergreen shrub ; branches slender, tinged with red, and thickly clothed with 
villous spreading hairs ; leaves alternate, variable, oblong, lanceolate or oblongly linear, acute, very much 
undulate at the edges, hairy on both sides ; petioles short, hairy, more or less reddish : Flowers solitary or 
sometimes in pairs, terminal, pendulous, straw-coloured ; pedicles short, hairy ; bractes narrowly linear, 
taper-pointed, hairy, deciduous ; calyx of five sepals, that are lanceolate, taper-pointed, erect, thickly clothed 
with villous hairs ; petals five, oblong, acute, reflexed at the points ; stamens five, distinct, inserted on the 
receptacle and alternate with the petals ; anthers blue or purple ; ovarium densely clothed with soft woolly 
down, terminated by a smooth simple style ; berry about the size of a hazel-nut, obtuse at both ends, densely 
tomentose, full of fleshy pulp, and containing numerous seeds in four series. 
The present plant forms a small climbing shrub, well adapted for a conservatory or greenhouse where 
it is not wanted to attain a great height ; it is one of the very few eatable fruits that are native of New Hol- 
land, and is of itself not very agreeable to the palate. It succeeds well in a mixture of light sandy loam and 
peat ; and young cuttings, planted in sand under bell-glasses, strike root readily ; it may also be raised from 
seeds, which are produced in great abundance. 
The genus was named by Sir J. E. Smith, the late President of the Linnean Society, in honour of J. J. 
Labillardiere, the celebrated French Naturalist, who accompanied the expedition in search of La Pey rouse.* 
It sometimes happens that without any particular cause for anxiety or depression, the mind is unac- 
countably perplexed and weighed down ; and at such seasons even a dream of the night may produce a 
painful effect, while our sad memories or futile regrets cannot altogether be dispelled even by the strongest 
exertion of our reasoning powers. I had arisen one morning to fulfil the daily round of appointed duties* 
but in a spiritless, discontented, and repining mood. Feelings of the kind usually hold their sway in the 
silent and secret recesses of the heart ; for we know that it is weak and wrong to indulge in them, and we 
are ashamed to seek for sympathy, which indeed can be but sparingly accorded in such cases. Towards the 
afternoon I sallied forth to try the effect of a solitary ramble, knowing this to prove frequently the best re- 
storative for a nervous or morbid temperament. In a secluded spot, from whence a gentle pastoral valley 
was visible, between the spreading branches of old linden-trees, overshading the pathway, which led onward 
amid a collection of mossy hillocks, on whose broken surface scanty heather tufts and delicate wild flowers 
were scattered, an object attracted my attention. It moved slowly and with apparent difficulty, now disap- 
pearing behind the hillocks, then emerging and stooping down, and altogether presenting a very peculiar 
appearance. I saw presently that it was a human figure, which I supposed at first to be some poor mis- 
shapen child seeking for flowers. But although correct as to the employment, I found on nearer approach, 
that the gatherer was no child, but an unsightly and deformed cripple of mature years. 
She supported herself on crutches, and besides the hideousness of the most unnatural distortion it is 
possible to imagine, added to a dwarf-like stature, her wan but placid face was rendered yet more ghastly by 
heavy linen bandages bound around it, and across her forehead. Her well-patched coarse garments were 
scrupulously clean, while her long thin white fingers were eagerly stretched forth to pluck the flowers, which 
she added to her store with childish delight. 
I volunteered my assistance, and soon not one more flower was to be found. She thanked me in a 
sweet low voice, and quietly set herself down on a bank of moss, and began to arrange her humble nosegay : 
at first I had fancied that she was imbecile, but that thought was quickly dispelled on hearing her speak, 
and meeting the earnest intelligent gaze of her deeply-sunken but bright black eyes. 
On sitting down to rest beside her, and inquiring if she was fond of flowers, as she took such pains to 
collect them, “ Oh yes, ma’am !” she answered, “ I love them dearly ; they do me so much good with their 
happy looks and sweet scents. I take them home with me, for they ease my pain when I have them near 
me to speak to. I am but a silly one, though I often remember Him who made both me and the flowers.” 
* Flora Australasica. 
