.1 ?t‘> 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
December 27. 
hand, and that hungry cattle have had their mouths 
made sore and blistered from eating it.” An infusion 
of the Lesser Spearwort (R. flammula), is said to 
be an instantaneous emetic in cases of poisoning, 
but I have never tried it, and my readers must not 
experiment with such a dangerous group of plants 
as these. This, and the Hurtful Crowsfoot (R. 
sceleratus), are employed in many parts of the high¬ 
lands of Scotland, and in the Isle of Skye, for the 
purpose of raising blisters: the mode of applying 
them is simple and curious. Limpet shells are filled 
with the bruised leaves and placed upon the part, 
where they usually produce a blister in about an hour 
and a half. It will, perhaps, hardly be credited, that 
strolling beggars often avail themselves of this pecu¬ 
liar property—which is also possessed by the Bul¬ 
bous-rooted Crowsfoot (R. bulhosusj —to cause 
ulcers on their arms and legs for the purpose of ex¬ 
citing compassion—a procedure, however, which 
brings with it its own punishment, since the sores 
produced are of an angry character and very difficult 
to heal. The plants themselves are among the most 
virulent of our native herbs; and, in the words of an 
old author “ they are dangerous and hurtful, yea they 
kyl and slay, spoyling the senses and the understand¬ 
ing.” To this general condemnation I must mention 
one exception, since it is said to differ from all the 
rest in being not only innocuous and free from acri¬ 
monious properties, but actually nutritive to cattle, 
and capable of being converted to useful purposes. 
This is the Water Crowsfoot (R. aquatilis), so com¬ 
mon in ponds and ditches, and making so pretty a 
show when its white and delicate flowers are fully ex¬ 
panded. _ 
OUR VILLAGE WALKS. 
(No. 12.) 
There is an old Scotch saying, to this effect, that a 
mild, open Christmas makes a full churchyard. It may 
«be so; and, no doubt, the benefit and blessing of 
severe winters is great. The human frame is braced 
and nerved by them; and the vegetable world is 
strengthened, rested, and enabled to put forth healthy 
and vigorous shoots, when the soft rays of the return¬ 
ing sun call them once more into life and energy. 
The earth is sweetened and enriched by the snow 
and frost, and injurious insects are destroyed. But 
still, let us bless God for softening so much the 
sufferings of the poor, by giving us hitherto a mild 
and open season. In these days of severe pressure 
and distress, how much the trials of the lower classes 
are increased by cold—where such is dear and diffi¬ 
cult to obtain. When the labourer returns from his 
daily work, wet and chilly, perhaps having gone 
through violent exercise and therefore more sensible 
of col4 it is impossible to be warmed, and his clothes 
properly dried, when the very moisture freezes in 
them, and the weather is so severe that the little spark 
of fire on the hearth can hardly be felt when the cold 
hands are spread over it. It is a special mercy when 
the “tender pity” of our Father in heaven, softens 
the sufferings of His poorer children; for their richer 
brethren are little, very little, aware of the privations 
and distress of the lowly cottager. True—they are 
often improvident—they are often unthankful, evil- 
minded, and deceptive—and we are very frequently 
misled and disappointed in our endeavours to do 
good. But let us take comfort and courage, and 
strive to do more instead of less; for if our God 
mercifully condescends to “ send rain upon the just 
and unjust,” He who can read so clearly the heart 
of man—what are we, that we should shrink from 
doing something, because we cannot do always wisely, 
or see the depths of human depravity hidden from 
finite eyes ? Besides, do we make more grateful re¬ 
turns to the Giver of all good than our brethren do 
to us? Let this question be answered honestly, and 
we shall at once be still. 
At this season we find the dark, quiet foliage of the 
yew-tree in great beauty. It is a common tree, but 
when allowed to grow freely and naturally it is rich 
and ornamental, especially during winter. It is well 
adapted for hedges and screens to exposed gardens, 
for it grows thickly and is easily trained to the required 
height and shape. It rivals the oak in age : and some 
of these trees, yet in existence in our own land, are sup¬ 
posed to have stood for more than a thousand years. 
The wood of the yew was used in our earliest times 
for making the longbows, with which, our ancestors 
gained so many battles, and laid the firm groundwork 
of our noble Constitution, so justly praised through¬ 
out the world. It is said that in those troubled times 
a yew-tree was ordered to be planted in every church¬ 
yard, that wood, for the construction of this important 
weapon, might be preserved in places of peculiar 
safety. What a striking contrast! the emblem of 
mortal strife, standing beside the house of prayer and 
peace—the flesh and the spirit, as it were, striving 
together, and preaching a loud lesson to the children 
of men. Ah ! had not God gone forth with our armies 
their strength would have failed before their enemies: 
for He “breaketh the bow and knappeth the spear in 
sunder, and burnetii the chariot in the fire.” Had 
not the “ arm of the Lord” been stretched forth to guide 
England’s hosts they would have been as the chariots 
and horsemen of Pharaoh. Let her people remember 
this, as they assemble together in the simple, beau¬ 
tiful village church, or stand beneath the shade of the 
aged tree, that has long ceased to deal deatli around. 
It may remind them of a day that is near at hand, 
when men “ shall not learn war any more.” 
There is a peculiarity in an English country church¬ 
yard, that few other spots possess ; there is a simpli¬ 
city, a quietness, a language, and a power, that is felt 
the moment we pass through its gate, and enter the 
silent, unobtrusive resting-place of so many past gene¬ 
rations. The simple building that stands peacefully 
within it, with its rich mautlings of ivy and the large 
antique Lee that has borne it company for ages, has 
unspeakable beauty, and a resistless charm in the 
Christian’s eye. How eloquent is every object! 
Every gravestone, every quiet mound, has a word of 
deep instruction for the frail, short-lived being who 
gazes on them, whose pilgrimage on earth is scarcely 
longer than his walk through the peaceful enclosure, 
and far more perilous ; and whose days are but as the 
shadow that lies calmly upon the swelling sods while 
the sun is up. When his beams withdraw the shadow 
is gone: does not this speak a word to our thought¬ 
less hearts ? 
At this particular season we need to think more 
deeply, to walk more softly, to consider more nearly, 
“ the things that belong unto our peace.” It is beau¬ 
tiful to mark the cottages clustering round their parish- 
church, as if men loved to hear its voice, cheering 
them on their dark and dreary way. How would 
every village, every parish, thrive, if men gathered 
thus round Him, “ who is greater than the temple ;” 
who is ever waiting to gather them, “ as a hengather- 
etli her chickens under her wings,” and who wept 
at their deafness to His gracious call. Let us re¬ 
member that we may draw near to Him with our feet, 
and with our lips, while our hearts are far from Him; 
and we may love to tread His courts, while the Word 
