Chapter II: What May Be Seen Upon the Earth (2)

The snow-bunting's favourite localities, where he loves to build his nest, are the crests of inaccessible rocks, surrounded by vast fields of snow, in whose midst the sun and tempest have created a few oases. The most he does is to approach the hospices of Monts St Bernard and St Gothard, and construct his nest under the eaves of their roofs. This nest, made of long blades of grass, is lined internally with hair and the feathers of poultry. At the beginning of May, the female lays six eggs of a snowy whiteness, and the male assists in hatching them, and bringing up the young. The bill of the latter is, at first, of a bright yellow, which turns black, like that of the parents, as they grow older.

The snow-bunting rarely descends into the wooded region. Of a very sprightly disposition, he spends nearly all his life in the midst of the snows and the ice. His song somewhat resembles that of the finch, which he also resembles in size and social instincts; for he may frequently be seen in numerous bands hovering above the highest mountains.

The snow-bunting is also met with in the northern districts of Asia and America.

THE RED-BILLED CROW--(_Corvus pyrrhocorax_).

The familiar cry of this bird, who resembles the thrush,--the _krapp-krapp_ of the red-billed crow (_la corneille des nieges_),--agreeably falls on the ear of the traveller, when wandering through solitudes devoid of any other living being. By their cries and their presence these birds animate the denuded rocks which rise like promontories in seas of ice. They are easily distinguished from other species by their coral-red bills; whence their name of _Pyrrhocorax_. They nest in troops in the crevices of the most inaccessible rocks, and propagate there from generation to generation. Their presence is indicated by enormous heaps of ordure, veritable guano, which might well be used for manure. Their abrupt ascents and strident cries are signs of bad weather, which the mountaineer knows how to profit by.

If caught when young, these birds are easily domesticated. M. Tschudi, in his "Life among the Alps," relates the history of one who had been tamed. He would himself go in quest of the bread, cheese, and fruits which composed his repast; then, holding in his claws the prize he had coveted, devour it with avidity. What remained of his meal he carefully concealed in paper, and would gallantly defend the hidden treasure against whomsoever dared to approach it, against dogs as well as man. Fire had a singular attraction for him; he would extract from a lamp the burning wick, and swallow it without sustaining any injury; he would swallow even the _débris_ of the charcoal as he fluttered about the chimney. He showed an excessive joy at the sight of smoke, and loudly clapped his wings. Whenever he caught sight of any burning coal, he did not fail to pick up immediately all the paper, rags, or twigs he could lay his claws on; these he would place in the stove, and amuse himself by watching the smoke they gave forth. If a stranger entered the room, he gave vent to the most deafening cries, though he was exceedingly gentle and familiar towards persons with whom he was acquainted. His friends and favourites he distinguished in a peculiar manner; he ran in front of them, displayed his joy by expanding his wings, and alternately perched himself on their hands, their head, their shoulders, eyeing them all over, and bending his head as if to kiss them. Every morning he entered his master's bedroom, called him by his name, posted himself on his pillow, and waited tranquilly until he awoke; then he expressed his satisfaction by all kinds of gestures and noises.

REPTILES.

Close to the line of perpetual snow a black variety of vipers has been met with; but none of the serpent race ever _cross_ that line.

The only reptile found within the boundaries of the snowy region is a kind of lizard (_Zootoca pyrrhogastra_), the only one, perhaps, of all the vertebrata which could live at an elevation above the sea-level of more than 9500 feet, buried in the snow for upwards of ten months.

During the few bright summer weeks, he feeds upon some rare insects and spiders.

The frigid zone is so far the natural habitat of these lizards, that they would rather die of hunger than live in the more genial regions to which men have wished to transplant them. In length they nearly equal our common lizards, but they are not quite so big; their back is of a chesnut brown, marked with black streaks and dots; the throat is bluish; the belly of the male is of a greenish blue, spotted with black, while that of the female is of so lively a red as to have suggested the name of the species, _Pyrrhogastra_; just as the name of the genus is derived from the circumstance that the young are hatched in the mother's belly, and are born alive like the young of a mammal. This statement, too, holds good with respect to the viper, which also endures the cold of elevated regions.

INFERIOR ANIMALS.

Our information is still very incomplete so far as relates to the molluscs, the arachnida, and the insects which inhabit the frigid zone. The Alpine snail (_Helix Alpicola_), so remarkable for its transparency, appears to be the sole mollusc which, in certain localities, attains to an elevation of 7000 feet. It is, however, surpassed by the earthworm, which is not only distributed over the surface of every country, but ascends to the snowy summits of the loftiest mountains. Few animals have their geographical distribution so extended both horizontally and vertically; and only some species of spiders and millepeds keep company with the earthworm.

Among the other inhabitants of the snows have also been observed a dozen species of butterflies,--nearly all diurnal,--for the phalænæ (?), or nocturnal Lepidoptera, appear to be much more sensible to the cold. M. Agassiz saw the "Little Vulcan" (_Vanessa urticæ_) fluttering in the snowy desert which borders on the glacier of Aar, as if it were completely in its element. The wings of the majority of these butterflies are sombre-coloured; their caterpillars live upon the auriculas, and seem to accomplish their metamorphoses in regions uninhabitable to us. The leaf-wasp (_Tenthredo spinacula_) appears to deposit its larvæ, at a height of nearly 10,000 feet, in the galls of the Alpine rose (_rhododendron ferrugineum_ and _rhododendron hirsutum_.)

* * * * *

The coleoptera have also numerous representatives in the region of perpetual snows, with this difference--equally characteristic of other animals--that, upon the southern declivity, they ascend 1000 to 1500 feet higher than on the northern. We may mention, as specially distributed in the topmost zone of the Alpine world:--

The _Chrysomela salicina_, a pretty little beetle, sometimes
blue, sometimes deep green, and finely punctuated, which lives
almost exclusively upon a species of dwarf willow (_Salix
retusa_).

The _Nebria Escheri_, a black beetle, about two thirds of an inch
long, with feet and antennæ of a brownish red; and

The _Nebria Chevrierii_, with rust-coloured feet and antennæ,
common in the sources of the Rhine.

* * * * *

Special mention must be made of the _Snow-Flea_. Do not think we are referring to an insect of the same species as our common fleas: the snow-flea approximates much more closely to the lice family than to the fleas, though it hops like the latter. The history of its discovery dates back as far as 1839. At this epoch, M. Desor, a learned Swiss naturalist, had undertaken some researches upon the glaciers. Accompanied by some friends, he set out from the hospice of the Grimsel, and arrived in the vicinity of the glacier of the Lower Aar. He had commenced his observations, when suddenly he heard Agassiz calling him, and shouting, "Come, come, make haste; here are your Mont Rosa fleas." Desor ran to the spot, and saw under a stone the little creatures whom Agassiz persisted in taking to be veritable lice, pretending they had been accidentally brought to these heights.

"I recognised with extreme joy," says M. Desor, "the little creatures whose loss I had regretted a year before. They are not pretty, but, on the contrary, very ugly. However, they showed, in opposition to the opinion of Agassiz, that they really inhabited the glacier, and were not merely chance visitors. We found them by thousands under other stones. ... Our guide, with whom the glaciers were old acquaintances, had never seen them before, and the tiny creatures excited his astonishment. What surprised us most was the rapidity with which they penetrated into even the most compact ice, till they resembled blood-corpuscles circulating in their vessels. This fact shows that there exist, in the hardest and most transparent ice, certain capillary fissures which escape an unskilled eye: it also proves that the glaciers, on their surface, and down to a certain depth, are by no means incompatible with the development of organised beings."[23]

The tiny insect in question was at first baptized by the name of _Desoria saltans_ (order of the _Thysanouræ_ of Latreille), but has since received definitively the name of _Desoria glacialis_. It belongs to the family of the _Poduræ_, singular creatures which, by virtue of their form, are a link between the earwigs and the spiders.

These are its generic characters:--

The body elongated, cylindrical, garnished with long setiform hairs, and composed of eight segments, six of which are perfectly distinct, and two (the two latter) very short, and scarcely perceptible; four-jointed antennæ, longer than the head; long, slender, cylindrical feet; forked tail, silky, and transversely wrinkled; seven eyes, laterally grouped at the base of each antenna; body without scales.

The _Desoria glacialis_, a species at present unique, is of a velvety black, and about one-sixth of an inch in length.

The _Podura plumbea_ (or "Spring Tail"), common enough in England, and found under all kinds of stones, will give the reader an idea of the flea of the glaciers.

On comparing these two species, we remark, first, that the _Podura plumbea_ is somewhat longer and thicker in body than the flea of the glaciers (see Fig. 16; _a_, natural size; _b_, enlarged); but it is more particularly by the length of its antennæ that we distinguish it. It owes its specific name of _Plumbea_ to the livid blue or leaden colour of the scales which cover its body. These scales resemble those of butterflies; only they are much smaller, more finely situated, and very variable in form and size (Fig. 17). In catching it great care is required, for it is so easily crushed; it is, besides, very soft to the touch, though, when examined with a microscope, it is seen to bristle all over with hairs, apparently very hard.

Our _poduræ_ have also the faculty of leaping, and cling by thousands to humid places, especially to mosses and the under-surface of stones. The mechanism of their leap is explained by the presence of a forked, flexible, and elastic appendage, lodged in a kind of ventral groove beneath the last segments; by projecting this rapidly behind, the whole body of the animal is thrown forward. At the slightest contact the insect folds up its caudal appendage under its belly, and you would then suppose it did not possess one. This circumstance explains why, in many books of natural history of good repute, the _poduræ_, and especially so common a species as the _Podura plumbea_, are represented without this characteristic instrument.

HERBACEOUS PLANTS WHICH BEST ENDURE THE COLD OF WINTER.

The "way to look at things," which is the true foundation of science, varies, not only according to a man's degree of intellectual cultivation, but according to his social condition or profession. The herborist has eyes only for the plants in which he deals,--the "simples" which, as we read in old Gerarde, wrought such wonderful cures in the days of our forefathers,--and from the most exquisite flowers he turns with indifference. The gardener, on the other hand, is wholly absorbed by his love and his hate,--his charming exotics, and his troublesome weeds. The latter he regards with much the same feelings as a society wholly composed of honest men would regard an infusion of the "dangerous elements;" for weeds, like rogues, take what is not their own, and deprive others of their means of sustenance. But to classify plants according to their virtues or vices is not worthy of science, exclaims the rigid botanist. Would you mingle vile self-interest with the pure study of the vegetable kingdom? Remember that all selfish feelings ought to be banished from the sublime sanctuary of analysis and synthesis.

This sounds exceedingly well. Disinterested words, from whatever quarter they come, always produce--perhaps, on account of their comparative rarity--an admirable effect. But what is their real value? To ascertain it, the listener must be able to seize, like so many luminous threads, all the emotions which are acting upon the heart and tongue of the speaker. But we are very far from having arrived at this degree of perfection. Shall we ever attain to it? Yes, because we can conceive its possibility. But, until that golden epoch, the pure love of science will always remain a myth, and we shall not have universally understood the necessity of seeking in the profound study of nature the grand destiny of man.

It is among the weeds and noxious plants that we shall find the species capable of enduring longest the cold of winter. What part, then, do they fulfil in the economy of creation? An ambitious, but not a novel question, which has often been propounded in reference to our parasitical insects.

The best answer which we can make to it is this: Everything invites us to work. Labour is imposed even upon him who least desires it. Earth will yield a return only in proportion to the care we bestow upon her.

If, after having toiled and sown, we had nothing to do but to gather in the harvest, every person would become an agriculturist. But a soil which is not manured will soon grow exhausted; and if it be neither ploughed nor harrowed, instead of barley or vegetables, it will soon be covered with tares; rank weeds will flourish in every field. Such is the chastisement reserved for sloth,--the true "original sin" of the human race.

Well, then, it is among the weeds, everywhere so common, that we meet with the plants best able to brave the rigours of frost.

THE DOG MERCURY.

The annual _Dog Mercury_ (_Mercurialis annua_) is one of the most tenacious. It attracts the passer-by, if he condescend to bestow a glance upon it, only by its extreme abundance; it propagates very largely, though it is by no means partial to all localities. For instance, it avoids the woods as persistently as its congener, the common Dog Mercury (_Mercurialis perennis_) seeks them. It prefers the vicinity of human habitations and uncultivated fields. If let alone, it spreads with a dangerous rapidity, and invades every garden which is not kept in the most exquisite order. Still, we must not deal too harshly with it. It is not altogether unfriendly to man. In truth, owing to its laxative properties, it renders him invaluable services. The country people have great faith in fomentations of Dog Mercury and honey. Understand, we pray you, that not an atom of mercury enters into it, despite its significant name; but a decoction of the annual Dog Mercury, mixed with a little thick honey, answers all the purposes of those lenitive clysters which are so beneficial to excitable temperaments. The leaves of the plant are eaten in Germany like spinach.

Of the _Mercurialis perennis_ Mr Sowerby writes:--"This plant was formerly used in medicine, but has long been abandoned as a remedy. It is extremely acrid, and even poisonous, though recommended in some old books as a good pot-herb, probably from being confounded with the annual species. When steeped in water, the leaves give out a fine blue colour resembling indigo. This colouring matter is turned red by acids, and destroyed by alkalis, but is otherwise permanent; it might possibly prove valuable as a dye, if any means could be discovered of fixing it, and the herb has been introduced into this work with the view of drawing the attention of chemists to the subject; no experiments seem to have been lately made upon it."

Let us now advise you how to distinguish our medicinal plant from the "ill weeds" with which it loves to associate. Its ovate, rough, irregularly-dentated, and petiolated leaves would not give it a sufficiently marked character, had it no other features peculiar to itself. But observe the yellowish-green _glomerules_, arranged, like millet, on a long frail spike. (Fig. 18, _a_.) They exhale, as your nose will inform you, a peculiar aroma, like that of spiced bread: no other plant but our Dog Mercury is gifted with this odour. Now, bring your magnifying-glass to bear upon it; with the point of a knife or a feather open one of the grains which form the _glomerules_ of the spike; out of it will leap, as if impelled by an invisible spring, a large number of stamens, easily distinguished by their elastic thread-like anthers, covered with tiny yellow beads. Each greenish grain is a _flower_; the calyx, which also serves as the corolla, is represented by three little petals, forming the external envelope of the little flower. (Fig. 18, _b_.) But something essential is still wanting; in the centre of the stamens you do not find any pistil. Why is so important an organ wanting? Because our little rounded flowers, with their spice-bread odour, have but one sex, are _unisexual_; they are male flowers, since they are furnished only with stamens. In vain do you hunt on the same stem for their companions, the female flowers. You will find them only upon _other_ stems, distinct from those which bear the male flowers. The Dog Mercury, then, is a plant whose two sexes are lodged in two different houses, οἴκοι--is, in fact, a _dioecious_ species.

But you are sure to find the female flowers in the immediate neighbourhood of the stems with the male flowers. They are easily recognised by their larger and darker leaves (Fig. 18, _c_); and especially by their little twin pods, green, wrinkled, and pedicellate,[24] which garnish the axil of the leaves. (Fig. 18, _d_.) From this characteristic the female mercury was formerly mistaken for the _male_; and many centuries elapsed before naturalists recognised, what now-a-days seems so simple, that the little pods, joined in couples, and containing each a grain, composed the _fruit_ of a single plant; that every fruit proceeds from an ovary; and that every ovary is a sign of the feminine sex.

In the _Historia Naturalis_ of Pliny, who was at once so acute and so credulous an observer, we first meet with the name of _Mercurialis_.

"The plant is so denominated," he says,[25] "because it was discovered by Mercury. Its juice, mingled with that of the _hibiscus_ (a species of the _Malvaceæ_) and the purslain, forms a kind of unguent, with which, if you thoroughly rub the hands, they can touch molten lead without being injured."

The description which Dioscorides[26] gives of the _Linozosis_, which he also calls _Parthenion_, or _Mercury's Plant_ (Ἑρμου βοτάνιον), applies, in the main, to our Dog Mercury. It is true that its leaves "are not like those of the basilic" (φίλλα ὄμοια ὁκίμῳ); but they resemble in all respects those of the smooth variety of cultivated mint; and, apparently, the basilic of Dioscorides was one of our mints. The fruit of the female, he adds,--evidently meaning the male flowers,--are disposed in clusters.

Both species of the Herb or Dog Mercury belong to the family _Euphorbiaceæ_.

Our attention must now be directed to another point. It is a fact, that in winters of moderate severity the Mercury continues to infest our gardens and cultivated fields. It only succumbs to a frost equal to six to ten degrees below freezing-point; then its congealed stem totters, and grows black, and its leaves mingle so completely with the soil that it is difficult to discover any vestiges.

How singular a contrast! The plants most destructive in our kitchen gardens are frequently the most useful in medicine. There are no drugs more popular than the weeds which we call Herb Mercury, Garden Nightshade, and Dog's-tooth grass. All belong to families whose properties are strongly marked. As already stated, the Mercury ranks among the _Euphorbiaceæ_, remarkable for their acrid and more or less purgative juice. In this family occur the most violent drastics, such as the _Croton tiglium_, whose oil (expressed from the seeds) has long been considered an efficacious medicine. The Garden Nightshade is one of the _Solanaceæ_, and cousin-german of the useful potato; and the Dog's-tooth grass, whose roots compose three-fourths of our possets, is of the same family as our cereals.

THE GARDEN NIGHTSHADE.

If you have seen--and who has not?--the flowers of the potato-plant, you will immediately recognise the flowers of the Garden or Black Nightshade. (Fig. 19.) This noxious herb--noxious in some, but useful in other respects, and, therefore, not to be visited with too hasty a condemnation--flowers and fructifies throughout the year. Its fertility is extreme; only the severest winter-frosts can crush out its prolific life. The fruits which succeed to the flowers are smaller berries or "apples" than those of the potato. (See Fig. 20.)

In the history of botany, and even in that of philosophy, the Black Nightshade (_Solanum nigrum_) has a certain interest. Thus, says M. Hoefer, both Cordus and Jean Bauhin, botanists of the sixteenth century, have described the flower of this plant as if its corolla were composed of five distinct petals.

Where were the eyes of those great botanists? The corolla of the nightshade, like that of all the _Solanaceæ_, is plainly and obviously monopetalous,--that is, composed of a single piece; to assure yourself of this, you have but to open it out. (See Fig. 21, _b_.) It was the sharp-pointed, ovate divisions of the limb which imposed on the old observers; a fresh proof that _seeing_ and _observing_ are two very distinct things. Our vision enters into full exercise from earliest infancy; observation is not acquired until after much labour and many years.

Do not forget to add, that the five stamens are brought very closely together by their elongated anthers, as is also seen in the flower of the potato-plant. (Fig. 21, _a_.)

The same botanists who took our solanum for a plant with a polypetalous corolla, considered the Bitter-sweet (_Solanum dulcamara_) to be a metamorphosis of the Garden Nightshade! The former they christened the red-berried solanum (_Solanum baccis rubris_), and the latter, the black-berried solanum (_Solanum baccis nigris_).

* * * * *

But if we once launch into the hypothetical, we shall be unable to stop half-way. If the species of one and the same genus are the result of a transformation, why may we not assert as much of the genera of a family, or the families of an order?

Thus we should arrive, step by step, at an unique type, not only for the vegetable kingdom, but for vegetables and animals, including man himself, and realise, to some extent, the ideal of the Greeks,--_unity in variety_.

Be it acknowledged, however, that _we_ have no desire to rise to so lofty an elevation. The potato-plant--unknown to the ancients, inasmuch as it is a native of the New World--has not been found to lose its character since its introduction into the ancient continent; its congener, the nightshade--an old native, like every bad herb--accompanies it everywhere; but its fibrous roots are absolutely virgin of every farinaceous tubercule.

Though the nightshade is common everywhere, Tournefort was the first to describe it with complete accuracy. That great observer even specifies various peculiarities which most of our botanists omit from their descriptions. Thus, he rightly remarks, that the peduncles branch out so as to form a kind of umbel, and do not emerge, as is usually the case, from the axils of the leaves, but a little below, from the very branches of the stem. He was also the first to note--and it was a veritable discovery--that the white flowers of the nightshade, grouped in threes to eights, are each formed of a single cup-shaped leaf,--in other words, that the corolla is monophyllous, and slightly bell-like or campanulated. Nor does he forget to describe the disposition of the five stamens, set close around the pistil, which, as it develops, forms a globular bacciform fruit, embraced by a five-lobed calyx. This fruit, which changes in colour from green to black, is filled with a great number of grains in a thick liquid, exhaling a nauseous odour. As for the leaves, they resemble those of spinach, for which, in some countries, they serve as a substitute.

Like all plants found by the wayside, and among heaps of refuse, the nightshade loves to vary its form, and of its various forms some nomenclators have made as many different species. The typical variety, the _Solanum nigrum_, has glabrous stems and leaves, that is, they are covered with short, but hardly visible hairs; its berries are black.

The smooth variety, or _Solanum villosum_, is rather rare, and has swollen or bulging leaves and stems; its berries are red or of a reddish yellow. The two varieties seem able, by sowing, to be transformed into one another. A sub-variety of the _Solanum villosum_ has been described as a peculiar species, under the name of _Solanum miniatum_, so named on account of its vermilion-coloured berries. The _Solanum ochroleucum_ and _Solanum luteovirens_, the first with yellowish, and the second with greenish berries, are simply varieties, and the same may be said of the dwarf form, known by the name of _Solanum humile_.

But the physician is more interested in the solanum than either the gardener or botanist. For him it is no useless or noxious weed, but, on the contrary, is an eminently precious herb. And, in fact, if it possessed only one-half the virtues formerly attributed to it, we ought to bow to the ground every time we encounter it.

Listen to our authorities even if you do not respect them.

Cæsalpin asserts that the decoction or juice of the nightshade is a sovereign remedy for complaints of the stomach and the bladder, and regards nightshade-water, mixed with an equal quantity of absinthe-water, as one of the best sudorifics.

Tragus, a physician and botanist like Cæsalpin, recommends the juice of the nightshade as anti-choleraic, as well as efficacious in inflammation of the liver and stomach. And yet, at the same time, he grows emphatic in reference to its poisonous properties. "Do not," he says, "employ this herb immoderately, lest it should happen to you as, in 1541, I saw it happen to an inhabitant of Erbach, near Hohenburg. After having eaten a few nightshade-berries, he was seized, on the following day, by a furious monomania, which led his neighbours to believe him possessed of a devil. After having uselessly employed every kind of exorcism, they sent for me. I made my patient swallow some very strong wine; he fell into a profound slumber; and, when he awoke, was cured."[27]

Withering affirms that a couple of grains of the dried leaves will act as a powerful sudorific, and that they have also been found useful in some cutaneous disorders.

Here is another authority, before whom naturalists are accustomed to give way. We make use of the _Solanum nigrum_, says Tournefort,[28] when it is necessary to subdue inflammation, or soften and relax the fibres. The pounded herb is applied to hæmorrhoids. The juice, with a sixth-part of rectified spirit-of-wine, is advantageous in cases of erysipelas, ringworm, wildfire, and all diseases of the skin. Nightshade is also employed in anodyne cataplasms.

* * * * *

Tournefort did not confine himself to simple botanical descriptions; he did, what our modern botanists neglect doing,--he made experiments, both physiological and chemical, on the plants employed in medicine. Thus, he began by tasting the different parts of the plant.

"The root," he says, "is almost insipid; the leaves taste like a saltish herb; there is something sharp and vinegary in the fruit; the whole plant has a narcotic odour. The _leaves_ do not redden turnsole,[29] but the ripe _fruit_ reddens it greatly; whence we may conjecture that the _sal-ammoniac_ contained in this plant is moderated in the leaves by a very considerable portion of fœtid oil and earth, but that the acid portion of the salt is strongly developed in the ripe fruit; so that we must choose our part of the plant according to the purposes we wish to employ it for. The fruits, for instance, are more refreshing, but more repellant, than the leaves, which soften while resolving, cleansing, and absorbing."

We admit that these data leave much to be desired from a chemical point of view. We may well ask, for example, how the illustrious philosopher ascertained the presence of sal-ammoniac in nightshade? But it is not fair to criticise the science of the past, by judging it through the deceitful prism of the science of to-day. We must adopt the methods of our predecessors, when discussing natural productions from all the view-points of their applications.

DOG'S-TOOTH GRASS.

In clearing an uncultivated field we uproot a great number of herbaceous plants of different families; but those of the _Gramineæ_, or Grasses, invariably predominate. They are the trailing roots, or _rhizomes_, of certain species which have been included under the general denomination of Dog's-tooth. These tenacious and vigorous roots,--so wholesome in various maladies, so injurious to cultivation,--are, whatever certain botanists may say, far from tracing their origin in all cases to the _Triticum repens_ (couch-grass) and _Panicum dactylon_--those terrible enemies of the corn-field, which, once established in the soil, are with difficulty extirpated, and prove very injurious to the "golden crops." Nearly every grass which puts forth _rhizomes_ will furnish the _Dogs-tooth_. We may cite, for instance, several species of _Festuca_ (as _Festuca rubra_ and _Festuca pinnata_), or fescue grass; at least two kinds of meadow grass (_Poa compressa_ and _Poa pratensis_), a species of wild-oats (_Avena elatior_), to say nothing of the weeds _Arundo phragmites_ and _Arundo epigeios_. The long _rhizomes_ of these vivacious plants possess nearly the same properties, due to their saccharine principles.

How shall we distinguish these plants from one another? Their leaves have almost exactly the same configuration; they are linear;[30] and their flowers are not apparent,--they do not attract the gaze of the passer-by. Yet they possess all the organs necessary for the reproduction of their species:--three stamens, each composed of an anther and a characteristic filament; on this anther, whose two lobes are arranged like the branches of an X, the pistil softly and tenderly balances itself on the summit of a frail thread, to which it is attached by the back. Remark, too, the two styles with feathery stigmata,[31] like the barbs of feathers. Nothing is wanting to constitute a complete flower.

There is even a perianth, or calyx, represented by a couple of tiny membraneous scales, scientifically known as _glumellulæ_; then at the base of each spikelet, composed of one or two of these bright green lilliputian flowers, are two other and larger scales, called _glumellæ_: they represent an _involucre_.[32] It is almost unnecessary to add, that the free, unilocular ovary, or seed vessel, forms, as a result of its development, the seed, whose embryo adheres laterally to a farinaceous kernel, or _perisperm_. The union of one or more of these flowers composes a spikelet, and the union of the _spikelets_ constitutes the spike, which may be disposed on a simple or ramified axis. Such are, in general, the characters we must keep before us in the difficult study of the Gramineæ.

Let us now see, more closely, the two plants which, according to the botanists, furnish the root of the Dog's-tooth.

When walking along the sandy bank of a river, you must frequently have trodden under foot a low, almost crawling herb, remarkable for its violet-red spikes, which, three to five in number, are arranged like the fingers of a hand, on the summit of a short curving stem.

This glaucous-leaved herb is the _Panicum dactylon_ (_i.e._, fingered-millet) of Linnæus. The long trailing _rhizomes_, joined to some less prominent characters, have been sufficient for some botanists to create a special genus, _Cynodon_, or _Kynodon_ (a Greek word, signifying literally "Dog's-tooth"), and to change the Linnean denomination of our grass into _Cynodon dactylon_. It is seldom met with in cultivated land; but in such a locality as we have already described, and sometimes on open sandy shores, where the summer sea comes with a gentle ripple and a subdued music, it may frequently be found. Its long, tough runners creep through and over the loose soil for many yards, rooting at every joint, and furnished with flat, rather short leaves, of a glaucous hue. The flowers grow in narrow, linear spikes, arranged at the top of a short leafy stem in the form of an umbel, and give the grass, when in bloom, a very peculiar and characteristic aspect.

But if the _Cynodon dactylon_ is rare in cultivated fields, the _Triticum repens_--commonly called couch-grass, but, in our opinion, the true and genuine dog's-tooth--is particularly abundant. (See Fig. 23.) Its long subterranean stems increase with astonishing rapidity, and if the smallest fragment be left in the soil, it will vegetate, and speedily extend itself, until it becomes almost impossible to extirpate it. It is a kind of wild barley, with stiff leaves of a moderate length, and of a bluish tint, and a double spike, composed of clusters of four to six flowers, each crowned by a narrow ridge. We must not confound the _Triticum repens_ with the _Elymus caninus_ of Linnæus, which has no trailing underground roots like the former. It differs also from the latter in the roughness of _each_ side of its leaves,--only one side of the leaf of the _Triticum repens_ being rough,--and in the crests which rise above the flowers.

Was the dog's-tooth known to the ancients? Undoubtedly, for the dog's-tooth flourishes in all climates,--is truly cosmopolitan. But it is difficult to decide whether their _Agrostis_ and their _Gramen_ apply to the above-mentioned species.

* * * * *

According to Diodorus, the primitive Egyptians lived upon herbs. "They also eat," he says,[33] "the stems and roots which grow in the marshes. Especially did they hunt after the _Agrostis_, a plant remarkable for its sweet savour and the sufficient nourishment which it offers to the wants of man. It is likewise considered an excellent provision for cattle, from its fattening properties. It is in remembrance of these benefits that the inhabitants of Egypt, when worshipping their gods, carry this plant in their hand."

The _Agrostis_ of Diodorus would apply to all the _Graminaceæ_ whose stems and roots contain nutritive and saccharine principles. Let us here remind the reader that the sugar-cane belongs to the same family as barley and the dog's-tooth.

Pliny is much more explicit. What he says of the _Gramen_ (or grass), the "commonest of herbs"--_inter herbas vulgatissimum_--and of the geniculated spaces between its knots (_geniculatis serpit internodiis_), applies with tolerable accuracy to our _Triticum repens_. He also speaks of the diuretic properties of a decoction from its trailing roots.[34] As for his _Gramen aculeatum_ (or needle-like grass), it is positively our _Cynodon dactylon_. "The five spurs or needles which shoot out," he says, "from the top of the stem, have procured it the name of _Dactylon_." To these digitiform spikes he attributes the property of checking the bleeding of the nose, when they are introduced into the nostrils. But a thorn is much better fitted to produce this effect; the spikes of the digitated panicle of the _Cynodon dactylon_ are much too soft to determine epistaxis by a mechanical action. So it is not improbable that they owe their putative virtue to their colouring, which is not unlike that of blood, and which has even procured for the species the name of _Digitaria sanguinalis_. In the same manner the capricious mediæval imagination pronounced liverwort, with its marbled leaves, a sovereign remedy for diseases of the lungs,--organs remarkable for their marbled appearance.

Dioscorides is quite as explicit as Pliny. What the latter names _Gramen_, he, however, calls _Agrostis_. After having particularised the nodosities of the stem--a feature common to nearly all the Graminaceæ--he describes very clearly the long creeping roots put forth by the said stem; and he does not forget to mention the sugary savour, so characteristic of the rhizomes (ῥίζας γλυκείας) of the _Triticum repens_.[35] Theophrastus confines himself to indicating the _Agrostis_ as a herb which infests the fields.[36]

* * * * *

The _Cynodon dactylon_ is, at the present day, very common in Greece, where it is specially partial to low grounds, which are somewhat damp and sandy. The inhabitants call it _Agriada_, a name derived from ἄγριος, "wild." But if we may believe Fraas, the author of a _Flora Classica_, the genuine dog's-tooth, _Triticum repens_, is, on the contrary, very rare in the land of Socrates. This is a curious fact, if a fact, for geographical botany.

Throughout the Middle Ages, and down to the eighteenth century, were confounded, under the generic name of _Gramina_, or grasses, the most diversely-featured herbs, including the dog's-tooth. Tabernæmontanus, Dodonné, Mathiole, Jean and Gaspard Bauhin, were the first to attempt the clearing of a path through this intricate wilderness. They eulogised, at the same time, the emollient properties of the dog's-tooth.

Tournefort[37] and Bernard de Jussieu, who appear to have made a chemical analysis of it, pretend that the roots of the dog's-tooth contain a large quantity of oil, earth, and several acid liquids, as well as a little fixed salt. "According to all appearance," they add, "the roots act by means of a salt analogous to salt of coral, enveloped in a great deal of sulphur."

Instead of mocking us with such fantastic analyses, which can only excite the laughter of our modern chemists, Tournefort and Bernard de Jussieu would have deserved better of science if they had applied themselves to the task of introducing light and order into the cloudy chaos of the _Graminaceæ_ of the botanists of their age.

* * * * *

But winter is passing away, and the time for the singing of birds is at hand. Already the earth is awakening from her prolonged lethargy; the hedgerows are green with budding leaves; the purple crocuses shine in many a sheltered field; on bank and brae, in glen and vale, the glory of the primrose makes glad the heart of man; the wood anemone hangs its delicate head in the woodlands; and it seems as if a gladder feeling animated the universal nature.

And the heart and the brain and the soul sympathise in this apparent delight of material things; the heart beating more freely, the brain feeling a stronger working power, and the soul rising to purer views of life and its duties:--

"Oh, who can speak the joys of spring's young morn,
When wood and pasture open on his view,
When tender green buds blush upon the thorn,
And the first primrose dips its leaves in dew!"

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 12: Chaplin Child, "Beredici," p. 171.]

[Footnote 13: Pliny, "Historia Naturalis," Book xi.]

[Footnote 14: De Saussure, "Voyage dans les Alpes," Book iii., p. 45 (ed. 1803, Neufchâtel).]

[Footnote 15: Annales de Chimie et de Physique, vol. xxvii., p. 134.]

[Footnote 16: Philosophical Transactions, 1820, vol. ii., p. 165.]

[Footnote 17: It is but fair to add, however, that Vogt and others contend for the animal origin of this substance, and regard the _Protococcus nivalis_ as simply a development of the infusoria, _Disceræa nivalis_.]

[Footnote 18: Macmillan, "Footnotes from the Page of Nature," pp. 141-143.]

[Footnote 19: The two temperate zones together represent perceptibly the half, or 0.520, and the torrid zone, two-fifths, or, more exactly, 0.398, of the terrestrial surface.]

[Footnote 20: That is, muttering, marmot-wise, one's prayers.]

[Footnote 21: Byron.]

[Footnote 22: Also called the Golden-crested Wren.]

[Footnote 23: C. Vogt, Agassiz, und seiner Freunde geologische Alpenreisen, p. 181. Frankfort, 1847.]

[Footnote 24: A flower with a stalk is called _pedunculate_ or _pedicellate_; without a stalk, it is _sessile_.]

[Footnote 25: Pliny, "Historia Naturalis," xxv. 18.]

[Footnote 26: Dioscorides, "Materia Medica," iv. 191.]

[Footnote 27: Tragus, "Historia Stirpium" (ed. 1552).]

[Footnote 28: Tournefort, "Histoire des Plantes" (ed. 1727), i. 74, 75.]

[Footnote 29: _Turnsole_, a colouring substance made of coarse linen rags, which, after being cleaned and bleached, are dipped into a mixture of ammoniacal matter, and the juice of the _Crozophora tinctoria_.]

[Footnote 30: Leaves are said to be _linear_, when the veins do not spread out, but run from the base to the extreme point.]

[Footnote 31: A _stigma_ is the continuation of the cellular tissue of the style, and has sometimes projecting cellules of hairs.]

[Footnote 32: A whorl, or ring, of _bracts_ (floral leaves) is so called.]

[Footnote 33: Diodorus, i. 43.]

[Footnote 34: Pliny, "Historia Naturalis," xxiv. 188.]

[Footnote 35: Dioscorides, iv. 30.]

[Footnote 36: Theophrastus, "Historia Plantarum," i. 10; xi. 2, 4.]

[Footnote 37: Tournefort, "Histoire des Plantes," ii. 54.]