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Veronica chamædrys. Wild Germander.

Germander Speedwell.
Diandria Monogynia.

Bunches lateral. Leaves egg-shaped, sitting, wrinkled,

toothed. Stem with two opposite rows of hairs. Bunches frequently opposite. Blossom a fine blue.-Withering.



The philosopher of Geneva, during his earliest and happiest years, was one day walking with a beloved friend. It was summer: the evening was calm and delightful. The sun was just setting behind the double tower of the church; its broad beams spread their attempered fires in one vast sheet over the clear expanse of the lake; and the painted skiffs that glanced over the transparent water were tipped with vivid light. They sat on a soft, mossy bank, and enjoyed the gay prospect. At their feet was a bright tuft of speedwell. Rousseau's

* “ Theory of Beauty and Deformity.”

friend pointed out to him the little pretty flower, the Veronica chamądrys, as wearing the same expression of cheerfulness and innocency as the scene before them. No more was said. Thirty years elapsed. Care-worn, persecuted, and disappointed, known to fame but not to peace, Rousseau again visited Geneva. It happened that he one evening passed by the very same spot. The scene was just the same. The sun shone as brightly as before; the birds sung as cheerfully, and rose as merrily on the soft summer air; and the glittering boats skimmed the still surface of the lake as rapidly. But the house where he had spent so many happy hours was levelled with the ground. His kind friend had long slept in the grave. The generation of villagers who had partaken the bounty of the same beneficent hand were passed away, and none remained to point out the green sod where that benefactor lay.

He walked on pensively. The same bank, tufted with the same knot of bright-eyed speedwell, caught his eye. He turned away and wept bitterly.

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When known to fame, but not to peace,

Alone, unfriended, worn with care,
The enthusiast bade his wanderings cease,

And breath'd once more his native air,
And hail'd again the tranquil scene
Where once he roved with heart serene,

The plant that bloom'd along the shore,

When there in happier hours he stray'd,
Still flourish'd gaily as before,

In all its azure charms array'd ;
There still it shone in modest pride,
While all his flowers of joy had died.

It seem'd to say, “ Hadst thou, like me,

- Contented bloom'd within the bed
"That nature's hand had form'd for thee,

- When first her dews were on thee shed,
· Then had thy blossoms never known
· The blasts that o'er their buds have blown.”

It seem'd to say, “ The loveliest flower,

That keeps unmoved its native sphere,
• May brave the season's changeful power,

* And live through many a stormy year;
· For mercy guides the fiercest gale,
* And halcyon skies again prevail.”

Happy are those alone who aim

In duty's quiet path to shine,
And, careless of the meed of fame,

Unseen their fairest garlands twine;
Whilst He whose eye in secret sees,
To them the amaranth crown decrees.

Nymphæa alba. White Water-lily.

Polyandria Monogynia.

Leaves heart-shaped, very entire. Calyx four-cleft. Petals in several rows, resembling a double flower. The

flower opens about seven in the morning, closes about four in the afternoon, and then lies down upon the surface of the water. Leaf-stalks and fruit-stalks round, within full of pores, four of which are generally larger than the rest. Calyx leaves smaller than the outer petals. Summits seventeen or eighteen, placed in a circle, and corresponding with as many cells in the germen. Stamens fixed to the side of the germen. Leaves oval, with a deep notch at the base. Leafits nearly cen. tral. Petals numerous, white. This most beautiful aquatic floats its splendid white or

pinkish flowers by broad leaves.-Withering.

The Nymphæa alba may be justly called the most magnificent of our wild flowers. It has been considered as a rival to the magnolia of America, which indeed it strongly resembles when the blossoms of that shrub are partially expanded. It is more rare than the N. Lutea, but is nevertheless abundant in many parts of the kingdom. We can recall with delight, as no doubt many of our readers can, pleasant boat-excursions, in July or August, when our path in the waters has been skirted by widely-extended beds of white water-lilies, sometimes edging the shores with a deep, waving border of flowers and foliage, bending with every undulation of the stream; sometimes running up in broad alleys, between the flags and reeds, which seem to have broken their ranks, and made an opening to give them room. It is scarcely possible to imagine any thing more beautiful than these fine blossoms, each one floating on a broad, green leaf, which spreads beneath it as it rises to the surface of the water, and looks like a salver of verd antique supporting a vase of ivory. In Egypt this flower was dedicated to the moon. It grows luxuriantly in the Nile, and was the more reverenced from that circumstance, since the river was itself held sacred by the inhabitants

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