MISCELLANY. 
225 
Ion Links, and Forfar. This pretty species is readily distinguished from the other 
more common and lowland Mouse-ear Chickweeds, by its large white flowers.— 
Fifeshire Journal , July 19, 1838, communicated by Mr. Henry Buist , Law 
Park , near St. Andrews. 
The Wonders of Horticulture.— Innumerable are the advantages which 
mankind have derived from the horticulturists. Few would suppose that the 
Peach (from which branched the Nectarine) had its origin in the Almond ; or 
that the Shaddock, the Citron, the Orange, and the Lemon, proceeded from the 
diminutive wild Lime. That favourite edible, Celery, springs from a rank and 
acrid root, denominated Small-age, which grows “ on all sides of ditches, and in 
^he neighbourhood of the sea.” The Hazlenut was the ancestor of the Filbert and 
the Cob-nut, while the luscious Plum can claim no higher a source than a Sloe. 
From the sour Crab issues the Golden-pippin ; and the Pear and Cherry originally 
grew in the forest. The garden Asparagus, which grows, “ though not very com¬ 
monly, in stony or gravelly situations near the sea, when growing spontaneously, 
is a diminutive plant, and none, indeed, but a practised eye, examining into the 
species which is reared by artificial culture, can discern a resemblance/’ Wondrous 
to relate, the Cauliflower (of which Brocoli is a sub-variety,) is derived, together 
with the Cabbage, from the Cole wort; a plant in its natural state, of scanty leaves, 
not weighing altogether half an ounce. Crambe maritima , which is found wild 
adjacent to the sea, has been improved into Sea-kale ; the invaluable Potatoe is 
the offspring of a bitter American root, of spontaneous growth; and the all-tempt¬ 
ing Pine-apple descends from a fruit which “ in foreign climates grows wild by 
the sides of rivulets, and under the shade of lofty trees /’—Gardener s Gazette. 
Charms of Flowers.— Who would wish to live without flowers ? Where 
would the poet fly for his images of beauty, if they were to perish for ever ? Are 
they not the emblems of loveliness and innocence—the living types of all that is 
pleasing and graceful? We compare young lips to the Bose, and the white brow 
to the radiant Lily; the winning eye gathers its glow from the Violet, and a sweet 
voice is like a breeze kissing its way through flowers. We hang delicate blossoms 
on the silken ringlets of the young bride, and strew her path with fragrant bells 
when she leaves the church. We place them around the marble face of the dead 
in the narrow coffin, and they become symbols of our affections—pleasures re¬ 
membered and hopes faded, wishes flown and scenes cherished, the more that they 
can never return. Still we look to the far-off Spring in other valleys—to the 
eternal Summer beyond the grave when the flowers which have faded shall again 
bloom in starry fields, where no rude Winter can intrude. They come upon us in 
Spring like the recollections of a dream, which hovered above us in sleep, peopled 
with shadowy beauties and pure delights, fancy broidered. Sweet flowers ! that 
