No blighted bower, and no broken heart?
Hath death ne'er saddened your scenes of bloom.
Your suns ne'er shone on the silent tomb?
Did their sportive radiance never ^U
On the cypress tree, or rained wall ?
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TH« NATtTHALIsyS DIARY. 27
'Twere Tain to gaess, for no eye hatb seen
0*er the gulpb eternnliy fixed between*
We hear not the songs of your early hours ;
We hear not the hymn of your evening bowers.
The strains that gladden each radiant sphere
Ne'er poured their sweets on a mortal ear,
Though such I could deem, on the evening's sigh,
Tbe air harp's unearthly melody !
Farewell ! farewell I I go to my rest.
For the shades are passing into the west,
And the beacon pales on its lonely height —
Isles of the Blest — good night! — good night!
NewMotUhlp Ma$azi$is.
Cj^e ilaturaltfiird Mintp
For. JANUARY 1825.
Throughout the watches of the night.
The feathery snow, in silent flight,
Has left the regions of its birth.
And, flailing, sought the realms of earth :
The mantled mountain heaves on high
Its forehead to the morning sky.
On which the distant lord of day
Shoots forth a horizontal ray ; —
The fields that lately bloomed and smiled
Are flow'rless, desolate, and wild.
Cold as Despair's un&easing tears.
And silent as departed years.
With bending branches hangs the wood,
A lonely, leafless solitude ;
The Spirits of the North have swept
Its pride away, the snows have leapt
On every dark oatstretehing bough;
And if the passing bird alight,
^ With fearful, fluttering pinions, lo !
Comes down a frequent shower of white,
Which falls within the roaring stream.
That rushes on, and hears the call
That urges to yon waterfall,
Down, from the inland mountains, down,
With swelling tide, and waves of brown.
D. M. MOIR.
Onb of the most beautiful sights ou which the eye
can open, occasionally presents itself to our notice in
this monlli : we saw tlie shades of evening fall upon
a waste expanse of brown earth, shorn hedge-rows.
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28 THB natpraust's diary
bare branches, and miry roads, interspersed here and
there with a patch of dnll melancholy green; but
when we are awakened by the late dawning of the
morning, and think to look forth upon the same,
what a bright pomp greets us ! what a white pagean-
try 1 It is as if the fleecy clouds, that float about the
sun at Midsummer, had descended upon the earth
and clothed it in their beauty ! Every object we look
upon is strange and yet familiar to us — ' another yet
the same.' And the whole afiects us like a vision
of the night, which we are half-conscious is a vision ;
— ^we know that it is ^A€r6— and yet we know not
how long it may remain there; since a motion may
change it, or a breath melt it away. And what a
mysterious stilness reigns over all ! a white silence !
Even the ^ clouted shoon' of the early peasant is not
heard, and the robin, as he hops from twig to twig
with undecided wing, and shakes down a feathery
shower as he goes, hushes his low whistle, in wonder
at the unaccustomed scene.
The throstle is now seen under sunny hedges and
southern walls in pursuit oi snails, which he destroys
in abundance, particularly in hard winters ; he de-
lights also in chrysalids and worms. Other birds
now quit their re&eats in search of food. The nut-
hatch is heard, and larks congregate and fly to the
warm stubble for shelter.
Ah ! bleak aud barren are the fields.
Undecked with aught of summer's dje;
The naked plain no shelter yields
To sereen them from the stormy sky ;
But soon they^l meet the yemal morn.
When crystal dew-drops deck the plain ;
When fragrpwce breathes from brake and thorn.
Sweet as their wild notes' native strain.
ALEX. BALFOUR.
The shell-less snail or slug makes its appearance^
Had commences its depredations on garden jdants
liDd green wheat.
The hedge-sparrpw and the thrush now begin to
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VOR JANUARY 1825. 39
sing. The wren also * pipes her perennial lay/ even
among Ae Jakes of snow. The titmonae polls atraw
oat of the thatch, in search of insects; linnets con-
gregate; androoksresort to their nest trees. Pullets
beg^ to lay; young lambs are dropped now. 8pi*
ders shopt oat ttieir webs ; and the blackbird whistles.
The field-fares, red-*wings, skyladu, and titlarks,
resort to watered meadows iV^food, and are, in part,
supported by tibe gnaU which are on the snow, near
the water*. The tops of tender turnips and ilry*
berries afford food for the graminiTorons birds, as
the iing*dove, &c. Earth-worms lie out on the
ground, and tiie shellnsnail appears.
The house-narrow chirps, and the bat is now
seen. Bats are very nsefnl animals; destroying
gr^tt numbers of the lai^e white moths in^ch fly
abroad by night.— See T. T. for 1828, p. 31.
l%oagh t^d gardener ccm find little to do in the
garden tibis month. Nature is ever at work there,
and ever with a wise hand, and gracefid as wise*
' The wintry winds of December (obserres the ele*
gant «md entertaimng efaronicler of the * MoKTHS')
having shds^ down the last lingering leaves from the
trees, the inal labour 4>f the gardener was employed
in making aU trim! and clean ; in turning vm the dark
eafftfi to give it a^— prunkig off the su^rflaous pro-
duce of summer-^^'^u^ gathering away th€i worn out
attire tiiat the perennial flowers leave behind them
when they sink into the earth to seek their winter
home, — as harlequin and colambuie in the panto*
mimes sdmetnnes dip down throi^ih a trnp^daorj and
cheat their silly pursuers by leaving their vacant
dresses standing erect behiira them.— All being left
trim and oj:deiiy for the coming <m of llie ne^ year.
l%e various processes of Nature for the renewal of
* Somepretty lines VTo lifteea GAikti seen ^ncanf in the Snn-
beuns an Jan. 3,' will be fotmd in the very interesting < JBitmaM nf
J2o(M BCooM^ld,' Toti, p. 31, lately published for the exclnsivebe*
neftt ef his #idow and famny.
c2
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3& THB KATURALlSl's DIAtV
— — "i^— *— W^W ■ I I ■■ ■■■■■. ■■ II I — ■ ■ I — .. .. I J I ^
her favoured race, the flowers, may be more aptly
observecl than at any other period. StiU, therefore^
however desolate a scene die garden may present
to the general gaze, a particular examination of it is
fall of interest, — an interest that is not the less va-
luable for its depending chiefly on the imagination.
Now, the bloom-buds of the fruit-trees, — which the
late leaves of autumn had concealed from the view, —
stand confessed, upon the otherwise bare branches ;
and, dressed in their patent wind and water-proof
coats, brave the utmost severity of the season; — ^tiieir
hard unpromising outsides, compared with the forms
of beauty which they contain, reminding us of their
friends the butterflies when in the chrysalis state. —
Now the perenniak,^ha,ynng slipped off their sum-
mer robes, and retired to their subterranean sleeping-
rooms,— just permit the tops of their naked heads to
peep above the ground, to warn the labourer from
disturbing their annual repose,— Now the smooth-
leaved and tender-stemmed rose of China hangs its
pale, scentless, artificial-looking flowers upon the
cheek of winter — ^reminding us of the last faint bloom
upon the face of a fading beauty, or the hectic of
disease on that of a dying one ; and a few chry&a»*
themums still linger— the wreck of the past year —
their various-coloured stars looking like faded imi*
tations of the gay glaring China-asten
* Now, too, — first evidences of the revivifying prin-
ciple of the new-bom year — for all that we have
hitherto noticed are but lingering remnants of the
old— now the golden and blue crocuses j^p up their
pointed coronals from amidst their guardmg palisades
of green and grey leaves, that fliey may be ready to
come forth at the call of the first February sun that
looks warmly upon them ; and perchance one here
and there, bolder than the rest, has started fairly out
of the earth already, and half opened her trim form,
pretending to have mistaken the true time: as a for-
ward school-miss will occasionaUy be seen co-
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TOR JANUAAY 1825. 31
■ ■ ' • i —
qaetting with a smart cornet^ before die has been
regularly produced— as if she didn't know that there
was 'any harm in it/
In the absence of other flowers, the golden saxi-
frage, called also gplden moss, and stonecrop {chry^
soptatmm)^ affords its little aid to give life and beanty
to the garden. The bramble {ruhiu fiiMcimu) still
retains its leaves, and gives a thin scattering of green
in tbe otherwise leaflless hedges ; while flie berries of
the hawthorn, the wild rose, and the spindle-tree,
afford their brilliant touches of red. The twigs of
tbe red dog-wood, too, give a richness amid the
general brown of the other shrubs. Ivy now casts
its leaves.
The beUeborus niger, or Christmas rose, shows its
pretty flowers at this season^ and, towards the close
of the month.
The snowdrop blooms,
Ere winter'fl wild storms are past,
Aa she shrinks below
Her mantle of snow.
And, trembling, shuns the blast
In mild seasons, such as that of 1823-24,. the
garden is quite gay wit^ flowers, and carnations;
roses, chrysanthemums, auriculas, ten-week stocks,
dai»es, mignionette, marigolds, sweet peas, poly*
anthuses, hepaticas, primroses, violets, periwudde,
hearts' ease, and the sweet smelling wnUl-flower, may
be ^ihered in abundance.
The Wall Flower.
Where the wall flower lives on high
P'er.the sculptured oriel stone.
Steals a perfume on the sky
With the night wind's hollow moan.
Thus 'tis o'er the waste of years
Comes an undistinguished throng,
Ruined bopes, and mingled.tears,
' And gentle wishes cberishod long.
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32' THE HATCRALIST*S DIAUT
Hopes tfaong^ coined, lovely yet ;
Tean for ooe thoogh dead to me ;
^ouglits I may not e'er forget;
W^es that can never be.
Ask not if tbeyVe good or ill —
All are sad, yet pleasing all ; —
Nor bow many haunt me still^
Count the rain drops as they fitU. .
li€w Monthly Magazine.
The weather in January 1824 wad so mild, that
prematnre Moss&ms of fruit and otiher trees were met
with in several places, and the season of different
cnlinary vegetables and flowers was prolonged in an
mrasnai degree. Late crops of peas continued in
bearing on some dry, sandy soils, till the second
week of the month, and cauliflowers were cut in the
Qfea garden. Myrtles, acacias, and other hardy
green-house plants, remained uninjured in the open
air ; and green-houses, dry-stores, and plant-pits,
had fires only onoe or twice to dry up ttie damp. — It
is also wortliy of remark, observes our inteUigent
correspondent from the banks of the Severn, that the
last winter proved a most complete refutatioii (if such
a prQ6f wer« needed) of the idea once entertained^
tbatapboti^ or iicanty proportion of fruit on the
whUs fliom (called haws) mtimated Aiaewne or nuld
season, being jbl /bounfifid pvcnrimon fiwiJie w^ants of
titoae biidfi that annually nugrate to ow island from
Severer T^ioas; 4is the crimson berries ^f our
May-bushes, though in profiision, remained ui^uched
throughout tiie winter, and perished from the sprays
by a natural decay, many even remaining until me
ensuing blossom was preparing to expand. The
flocks of field-fares and red-wings, which commonly
consume them, in consequence of ttie mildness of the
winter, remained almost entirely in the meadows and
low-lands, feediog upon worms and insects, which
they always prefer to the mealy fruit of our white
thorn, and their visits to our enclosures were only
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FOR January 182$. 33
partial and transient. The field-fare {turdus pilaris)
is, generally, a gregarious bird; but we observe every
year, that one or two of them separate from the main
flock, and retire to lonely hedge-rows and quiet pas-
tures, associating with the black-bird and the throstle,
as if they had attached themselves to some female of
that congenerous race, and were inclined to remain
throughout the summer, lingering with them until late
in the spring ; but at length they take their departure
with the last flight of &e season — they do not ap-
pear to be wounded or injured birds, and for this rea-
son to have sought quiet and concealment.
We cannot better conclude this month's Diary than
by drawing upon the stores of an artist, with the
productions of whose palette our readers are well
acquainted : — it is a ' Winter Landscape,' sketch-
ed, after Nature, by Bernard Barton, and be-
trays at once the hand of the painter, the poet, and
the christian.
The flowret's bloom is faded.
Its glossy leaf grown sere ;
The landscape round is shaded
By Winters frown austere.
The dew, once spariding lightly
. On grass of freshest green,
In heavier drops unsightly
. On matted weeds is seen*
No songs of joy to gladden
From leafy woods emerge ;
But winds, in tones that sadden,
Breathe Nature's mournful dirge.
All sights and sounds appealing.
Through merely outward sense.
To joyful thought and feeling
8eem now departed hence.
But not with such is banished
The bliss that life can lend ;
Nor with such things hath vanished
Its truest, noblest end.
The toys that charm, and leave us,
Are fancy's fleeting elves ;
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34 THB naturalist's diary.
AU that diottld glad, or grieve us,
£xiits within ourselyea.
Enjoy ment's genuine essence
Is virtue's godlike dower ;
Its most triumphant presence
Illumes the darkest hour '•
DESCRIPTION o/ CULINARY VEGETABLES.
Grateful and salutary spring the plants
Which crown our numerous gardens, and
larite to health and temperance, in the simple meal,
UnpoisOned with rich sauces, to provoke
Th* unwilling appetite to gluttony.
For this, the bulboui esculenU their roots
With sweetness fill ; for this, with cooling juice
The 0reen herh spreads its leaves ; and opening budt
And fioteers and seeds, with various flavours.
— DOnSLSY.
Spread your gardens wide, and let the cool,
liie moist, relaxing, vegetable store
Prevail in each repast. asmstrong.
We have already described the principal British
Forest and Fruit Trees (t. T. for 1816 and
1819) ; and in continuation of our plan we shall
now proceed to notice the chief products of the
Kitchen Garden, an interesting and useful branch of
horticulture. The importance of those vegetables
which constitute so considerable a portion of our
daily food is quite obvious. Without ttiem we should
soon become the victims of disease; and hence^ a
knowledge of their respective properties and appear-
ances> with the best methods of cultivation, is indis-
pensable in domestic economy. Their great value
as the preservatives of health, and as additions to
our comfort, may be seen in the privations and
sufferings of our gaHant seamen, who often lose
their lives during long voyages, merely through the
want of these salutary necessaries. The above ob«
servations will suffice to intimate our object in la]ring
* See a prettily printed pocketable little volume just published ;
entitled * Poetic Vi^ls,' by BaaMAan Baiton (Baldwin^. We are
Pleased to find that the j§econd edition , of bis * Napoleon and other
Poems has been printed in an equally compamonabU form.
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CULINARY VEGBTABLBS. 3S
the following accoant before the readers of this
annual publication^ which is briefly to describe the
best kinds of kitchen garden produce ; and thereby
to assist the horticulturist in growiug them under
his own direction.
AariCHOKB (cynara scolymm) — This plant is a
natiTe of die south of Europe, but arrives at its great-
est perfection in this country. YHien wild, it rises to
six feet high, birt seldom exceeds four feet when
cultivated. It may be easily known, as no other
herb has double leaves^ one belonging to its stalk,
and another to its seed or fruits There are three va-
rieties cultivated, the conical, French or oval ar-
tichoke, with a green head; the globe, or largest,
with a dusky, purplish head ; and the dwarfish globe,
a prolific variety and valuable, as occupying little
room with its head. The globe sort is generally pre-
ferred for the main crop; but the FrencA is consi-
dered 'to possess more flavour, as the flower heads
are cut off for use when in an immature state ; both
SQTta continue producing them from July to No-
Tend>er\ They are propagated from slips or suckers
taken from the old roots in February, March, or at
the beginning of April ; when, if planted in a good
dry SQiI, they will produce large heads in the foUow-
ing autunm. This vegetable is known by the same
name in nearly all &e European languages. Ar-
tichoke bottoms are dried in the sun for winter use,
and are esteemed either plain, fricasseed, fried, or
pickled; but the whole plant, if covered with sand,
may be preserved for a long time, and the young
ones may be pickled whole. The field mouse is very
> £oiMfo»>« EneifeUpadia of Gardemmgt t^imd edUion, No. 3919, 3920,
as indispeDsable, and the only complete guide to the professional or
amateur horticulturist. It contains in a comparatiyely small com-
pa8i» aa iilimense mass of valuable information, gleaned with incal-
culable mduBtry and great judgpnenti from every accessible source*
The whole work, indeed, displays the hand of a master in this fas.
dnating art; and the author evinces, in every page, a perfect ac-
quaintance with the subject on which, he writes.
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36^ CULINARY V£GBTABL£S. |
partial to the roots of this plant ; bat as the animal
prefers the beet roots^ it is recommended by
Mr. Phillips' to plant tiiem round the artichokes,
which he will not tonch while any beet remains.
Artichokes are generally boiled in water, though i
gourmands think them *much preferable' boiled in
oil or butter !
The elegant and facetious author of Tahella \
Cibaria^, or the ' Bill of Fare', observes, that the
artichoke is really a thistle, which by cultivation
has acquired first rate qualities. The bottom of a
good artichoke (he says) is, perhaps, one of the
best substances which the kitchen garden can offer
to the table of its master. The culinary art pos-
sessed itself of this valuable article, and admits it j
either fresh or preserved in fricassees, ragouts, |
pies, &c. vdth eminent success. The fruit, if we
may call it so, grows at the top of the stem. Each
branch has also its own fruit, but being secondary,
it is smaller. Eaten raw at breakfast in foreign
countries with pepper and salt, under the name of
' Artichauds A la poivrade/ it gives an uncommon
relish to a glass of ' champagne', and exhilarates the
mind for the rest of the day. This regimen, we are
convinced, would not prove wholesome in this la-
titude. It appeairs that the Venetians were indebted
to the French for this excellent vegetable in the
year 1473. Theophrastus knew and described it
under the name of Carduus Esculentus, the esculent
thistle. It is of a heating nature, as appears by the
name artichoke, which may be resolved into arhc^
limbs, and calidus warm; as if warming the limbs
of the body. The cultivation of it originated in
■ •^ ' I
* See his 'History of Cultivated Vegetables,' vol. i, p. 25, second '
edition i an exceedingly useful and pleasant book on this subject: |
the same author has also published a 'Pomorivm, or Account of
Fruit Trees ;*— * Sylva Floriferai or the Shrubbery ;'— and ' JF7orai7t>-
tortca, or the Three Seasons of the British Flower Garden.'
* The Abhi Mc Sicin, of whom a biographical sketch will be found -
in our last volume, pp. 189, 190.
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CULINARY VBOBTABLB8. 37
Cynara, an island of th^ Archipelago^ to which it
pA>bably gaye^ or from it may have received^ its .ge-
neric name.
The Jerusalem artichoke is merely a species of
helianthus or sun-flower^ and was much esteemed
before the potatoe was known; it is now^ com*
paratively, of little value; its roots, however, are
occasionally eaten boiled, mashed with butter, or
baked in pies. When set in rows from east to west,
this plant aflfords a useful shade to such /culinary
v^etables as rehire it in the midsummer months.
The season for plwating is from February to
April*
Asparagus {asparagus (#cimifi5).— This plant in
its native state is of so diminutive an appearance,
that few persons would consider it of the same
species as the cultivated asparagus; it is, generally,
found in stony or gravelly situations near the sea.
Asparagus is very extensively cultivated in the vi-
cinity of London, partieulai^ in> the parishes of
Mordake- and Deptlord; and the greenstalls of the
metropolis are heaped with it for nearly three months
in the year. It should be propagated by seeds sown
broad cast on a level bed of good rich earth at the
beginning of March. A very prevalent error is> that
many people will not dung their asparagus beds,
because they think the dung communicates a strong
rank taste to the asps^'agus. This is a great mis-
take, for the sweetest grows upon the richest ground,
the rank taste complained of being produced solely
by ibt poverty of the soiL The best ground for
planting asparagus, to have large i4H)ts for hot bede^
is a moisti rich soil; but for those intended for a
natural produce, a middling soil, neither very wet
nor very dry; or a well dunged sandy loam should
be preferred. Mr. PhiUips directs that males only
should be selected for new beds; which may be dcMie
by suffering jihem to flower before they are removed
from the seed beds. When the plants are a year
D
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38 C0LINARY VEGETABLES.
old, they may be transplanted, a few inches apart,
into fresh beds. In these beds they will most of
them flower during the second year, which will
afford an opportunity for separating the males, either
by marks, or by pulling up the females. This ve-
getable may now be obtained all the year round ; as
the same plants will yield two crops by proper treat-
ment. At the end of July, cut down the stalks, and
fork up and rake the beds, especially in wet weather?
in dry, water them with dimghill drainings, and
shape the beds so as to retain the moisture. In
about, a fortnight the fresh plants will make their ap-
pearance, and piust be watered at least twice a week
in. dry seasons. This plan will afford asparagus till
])Iichaelmas, and then the hot beds will supply it for
the remainder of the year. It is said that cutting
twice a year will exhaust the beds, which can only
be remedied by preparing others.
This vegetable improves the appetite, but it is not
esteemed nourishing. There seems to be reason to
believe that it has a favourable operation upon the
organs of digestion; and, as it generally gratifies the
palate, it may be very serviceable as a part of
the diet of valetudinarians. It is of so tender a
contexture, that a very few minutes of boiling ren-
der it perfectly eatable, particularly when just cut
and brought from the garden. Asparagus was a
favourite with the Romans, and they seem to have
possessed a very strong-growing variety; as Pliny
mentions, that, about Ravenna, three shoots would
weigh a pound. To express that a thing was to be
done quickly, the Romans used this saying : Ve-
locitis qmm asparagi caquuntur; Quicker tfian aspa-
ragus is boiled. — Some amusing anecdotes relative
to asparagus are narrated in the TabeUa Cibaria,
pp. 78-81. ; but as they have been lately copied into
the newspapers, we f6rbear to repeat them.
[ To be continued.]
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REMARKABLB DAY:S. 39
:f€im!(m3mr
SOME etymologists derive Febru8y7 from Feftma,
an epithet given to Jauo^ as the goddess of purifica-
tion ; while others attribute the origin of the name
to Februa, a feast held by the Romans in this months
in behalf of the manes of the deceased. — * Now, the
Christmas holidays are over, and all the snow in
Russia could not make the first Monday in this
month look any other than black in the home-loving
eyes of little school-boys ; and the streets of London
are once more evacuated of happy wondering faces^
that look any way but straight before them ; and sobs
are heard and sorrowful faces are seen to issue from
sundry post-chaises that carry sixteen inside, in-
cluding cakes and boxes ; and theatres are no longer
conscious of unconscious eclats de rire, but the
whole audience is like Mr. Wordsworth's cloud,
" which moveth altogether, if it move at all." — En
.revanche, — Now newspaper editors begin to think of