of giving names ; the frequency of it, however, in the present day, renders the little trait of vanity which it 
displays quite excusable. In the present instance, we doubt not, its proper appellation will be adopted, 
now that it is figured and published. The system of compounding the specific names of parent plants, 
between which hybrids have arisen, was first proposed in Maund’s Botanic Garden, and applied to a plant 
raised by the author himself. Under No. 385 of that work it 'is observed, “Authors have not agreed on 
the most convenient mode of naming hybrid or mule plants. Some have thought that names may be com- 
pletely arbitrary; some name them after the person with whom they originated; whilst others would alto- 
gether excommunicate such productions from botanical nomenclature. Notwithstanding the opposite the- 
oretical position taken by some botanists, we believe, doubtlessly, that hybrid plants become established, 
and hold a permanent place in the vegetable kingdom; it is, therefore, but reasonable to notice them ; and 
it is far better that their origin be registered, whilst it is known, in lieu of remaining to become the subject 
of future conjecture and error.” 
In allusion to the Lophospermum erubescente-scandens Mr. Turner says, “ It is remarkable for its 
strong growth, its bright green foliage, and above all, the extreme abundance of its flowers, which are of a 
very superior colour and size, compared with either of its parents. In fact, numbers of persons, who have 
seen the plant trained up against one of the old abbey walls, have pronounced it to be one of the finest 
ornaments for a wall or trellis that our gardens can boast.” 
It demands no peculiarity of management. If the root be left in the open ground during winter, it 
must be covered over as a protection against frost. 
We are indebted for the following passages to William Howitt’s agreeable work upon the Seasons. 
Gawain Douglas, the celebrated Bishop of Dunkeld, has given the following most excellent sketch of 
Winter. “The fern withered on the miry fallows, the brown moors assumed a barren mossy hue; banks, 
sides of hills, and bottoms grew white and bare ; the cattle looked hoary from the dank weather; the wind 
made the red reed waver on the dike. From the crags, and the foreheads of the yellow rocks, hung great 
icicles, in length like a spear. The soil was dusky and grey, bereft of flowers, herbs, and grass. In every 
hold and forest, the woods were stripped of their array. Boreas blew his bugle-horn so loud, that the 
solitary deer withdrew to the dales ; the small birds flocked to the thick briars, shunning the tempestuous 
blast, and changing their loud notes to chirping ; the cataracts roared, and every linden-tree whistled and 
brayed to the sounding of the wind. The poor labourers, wet and weary, draggled in the fen. The sheep 
and shepherds lurked under the hanging banks, or wild broom. Warm from the chimney- side, and refreshed 
with generous cheer, I stole to my bed, and lay down to sleep, when I saw the moon shed through the 
window her twinkling glances, and wintry light ; I heard the horned bird, the night-owl, shrieking horribly 
with crooked bill from her cavern ; I heard the wild geese with screaming cries fly over the city through the 
silent night. I was soon lulled to sleep, till the cock, clapping his wings, crowed thrice, and the day peeped. 
I waked and saw the moon disappear, and heard the jackdaws cackle on the roof of the house. The cranes, 
prognosticating tempests, in a firm phalanx, pierced the air with voices sounding like a trumpet. The kite, 
perched on an old tree, fast by my chamber, cried lamentably, — a sign of the dawning day. I rose, and 
half opening my window, perceived the morning, livid, wan, and hoary; the air overwhelmed with vapour 
and cloud; the ground stiff, grey, and rough; the branches rattling; the sides of the hill looking black and 
hard with the driving blasts; the dew-drops congealed on the stubble and rind of trees; the sharp hail- 
stones, deadly-cold, hopping on the thatch and the neighbouring causeway/ 5 
We are now placed in the midst of such wintry scenes as this. Nature is stripped of all her summer 
drapery. Her verdure, her foliage, her flowers have all vanished. The sky is filled with clouds and gloom, 
or sparkles only •with a frosty radiance. The earth is spongy with wet, rigid with frost, or buried in snows. 
The winds that in summer breathed gently over nodding blooms and undulating grass, swaying the leafy 
boughs with a pleasant murmur, and wafting perfumes all over the world, now hiss like serpents, or howl 
like wild beasts of the desert ; cold, piercing, and cruel. Everything has drawn as near as possible to the 
centre of warmth and comfort. The farmer has driven his flocks and cattle into sheltered home inclosures, 
where they may receive from his provident care that food which the earth now denies them ; or into the 
farmyard itself, where some honest Giles piles their cratches plentifully with fodder. The labourer has 
fled from the field to the barn, and the measured strokes of his flail are heard daily from morn till eve. 
It amazes us, as we walk abroad, to conceive where can have concealed themselves the infinite variety of 
creatures that sported through the air, earth, and waters of summer. Birds, insects, reptiles, whither are 
they all gone ? The birds that filled the air with their music, the rich blackbird, the loud and cheerful 
thrush, the linnet, lark, and goldfinch, whither have they crept ? The squirrel that played his antics on 
the forest-tree, and all the showy and varied tribes of butterflies, moths, dragonflies, beetles, wasps and 
warrior-hornets, bees, and cockchafers, whither have they fled? Some, no doubt, have lived out their little 
term of being, and their bodies, lately so splendid, active, and alive to a thousand instincts, feelings, and 
propensities, are become part and parcel of the dull and wintry soil; but the greater portion have shrunk 
into the hollows of trees and rocks, and into the bosom of their mother earth itself, where, with millions 
of seeds and roots, and buds, they live in the great treasury of Nature, ready at the call of a more auspicious 
season to people the world once more with beauty and delight. 
