OUR AUTUMN FIELDS. 
“ The wind-flower and the violet, they perished long ago, 
And the brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer 
glow ; 
But on the hill the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood, 
And the yellow sunflower by the brook, in autumn beauty 
stood, 
Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven, as falls the 
plague on men, 
And the brightness of their smile was gone from upland, 
glade and glen,” 
O sings the poet near to nature’s heart, while each 
succeeding autumn paints his scene anew. It was 
recently the writer’s privilege to take a twenty-five-mile 
ride through the New Jersey meadows, where the land¬ 
scape vividly realized Bryant’s description. We may 
affect the raconteur’s reticence, and refuse to divulge the 
exact point from which the aforesaid expedition started, 
only admitting that it is a locality where the fragrant 
musk-melon and toothsome Lima bean are the farmer’s 
tutelary deities. The myriads of flowers we saw are not 
by any means the exclusive heritage of New Jersey, 
though that State may be regarded as a botanist’s para¬ 
dise ; autumn is our prodigal season, and every hillside, 
every old pasture, is blazing with purple and gold. Every 
meadow becomes a veritable “ Field of the Cloth of Gold.” 
The golden-rod ( solidago ), in its almost countless varie¬ 
ties, is the most noticeable flower, especially in old pas¬ 
tures ; indeed, it becomes a most troublesome weed, 
extremely difficult to extirpate, as it produce'; countless 
numbers of seeds, which are blown about like thistle¬ 
down. In the lower and damper ground the prevailing 
golden tint is produced by the autumn sneezewort ( Hele - 
nium autumnale ), sometimes called “ swamp sunflower ” 
or “ false sunflower.” It is one of the 
“ last pale flowers that look 
From out their sunny nook, 
At the sky,” 
and it turns its bright flowers upward even during No¬ 
vember, if the season is not excessively severe. All the 
heleniums are noticeable for their late flowering. It was 
formerly the custom to dedicate to the saints some flower 
that opened about the days consecrated to them, and we 
find that the plant under consideration was dedicated 
to Edward the Confessor, whose festal-day was the 
13th of October. It seems irreverent to call a flower 
with such saintly antecedents “ sneezewort,” but the 
name is derived from its medicinal properties; it is used 
like snuff to induce sneezing. The flowers are most effi¬ 
cient in producing this effect. The whole plant is in¬ 
tensely bitter, with an aroma similar' to camomile; in¬ 
deed, the sneezewort would probably answer all the pur¬ 
poses of that flower. Our plant was described by earlier 
botanists both as an aster and a chrysanthemum, and the 
latter name, meaning literally “ golden flower,” seems 
very appropriate, did not stern science banish it to another 
family. 
The gatherer of simples will find another herb to be 
medically respected growing near the sneezewort—the 
common boneset or thoroughwort ( Eupatorium per- 
foliatutri). It is regarded in malarial districts as “kind 
nature’s restorer ” from the pangs of fever and ague, and 
it is undoubtedly a useful tonic and febrifuge ; but apart 
from these properties it really deserves admiration for its 
beauty, showing a large corymb of downy-white flowers, 
fully as handsome as any of our garden species. E. pur- 
pureum (trumpet weed) is a coarse but showy species, 
with deep pink flowers ; it grows from two to twelve feet 
in height, and makes a brave show along the roadside, 
raising its tall head above the golden-rod. Here, too, is 
the iron-weed or flat-top ( Vernonia Noveboracensis). 
We must apologize for inflicting upon our readers such a 
terrific specific name as this plant possesses, and explain 
that it is Latin—rather monkish Latin, we should judge— 
meaning, “belonging to the State of New York.” The 
first specimens known to science were procured in that 
State; but the title is a misnomer, as the plant is very 
widely distributed. It is tall and vigorous of growth, 
bearing a head of purple or rosy-purple flowers, some¬ 
what similar in shape to a thistle. It is a very conspicu¬ 
ous plant, growing two or three feet high. The stems 
are very coarse and hard,whence the name “iron-weed,” 
and it receives little favor from our botanists. Dr. 
Michener says it is “ a worthless and troublesome weed 
in moist bottom lands unless carefully disposed of. Being 
a rank perennial, the proper means is to destroy the 
root either by ploughing or grubbing.” Not a very com¬ 
plimentary description ; but a prophet is not without 
honor save in his own country, and Mr. Robinson gives 
the Vernonia a high rank among hardy flowers for Eng¬ 
lish gardens, praising it for its stately habit as well as its 
handsome flowers. 
The far-reaching salt meadows, with their wealth of 
rigid and aesthetic cat-tails, are now brightened by quan¬ 
tities of rose-mallow ( Hibiscus moscheutos), strongly 
resembling our old-fashioned rose of Sharon, of which, 
indeed, it is a variety. They are tall-growing, shrubby 
perennials, bearing large and showy flowers, either rose- 
color or white with a crimson eye. They are a very famil¬ 
iar flower at this season all along the Atlantic coast, extend¬ 
ing up the course of rivers or through brackish marshes. 
The word Hibiscus is an old Greek or Latin name of 
obscure meaning; the most reasonable solution seems 
that it is derived from Ibiscum —with the ibis—as, like 
that bird, it is a frequenter of marshes. 
The poet who gave us an opening for our paper tells 
us that— 
“The brier-rose and the orchis died amid the summer glow,” 
but we find an occasional brier-rose even now, sturdy of 
growth and bright of face, while if the orchis proper is 
absent it has left us its daintiest congener, the spiral 
ladies’ traces ( Spiranthes cernua). This is one of our 
