The Botanic Garden Volume Ii Part 5

For him she breathes the silent sigh, forlorn, Each setting-day; for him each rising morn.-- "Bright orbs, that light yon high etherial plain, 400 Or bathe your radiant tresses in the main; Pale moon, that silver'st o'er night's sable brow;-- For ye were witness to his parting vow!-- Ye shelving rocks, dark waves, and sounding sh.o.r.e,-- Ye echoed sweet the tender words he swore!-- 405 Can stars or seas the sails of love retain?

O guide my wanderer to my arms again!"--

Her buoyant skiff intrepid ULVA guides, And seeks her Lord amid the trackless tides;

[_Ulva_, l. 407. Clandestine marriage. This kind of sea-weed is buoyed up by bladders of air, which are formed in the duplicatures of its leaves; and forms immense floating fields of vegetation; the young ones, branching out from the larger ones, and borne on similar little air-vessels. It is also found in the warm baths of Patavia; where the leaves are formed into curious cells or labyrinths for the purpose of floating on the water. See ulva labyrinthi-formis Lin. Spec. Plant. The air contained in these cells was found by Dr. Priestley to be sometimes purer than common air, and sometimes less pure; the air-bladders of fish seem to be similar organs, and serve to render them buoyant in the water.

In some of these, as in the Cod and Haddock, a red membrane, consisting of a great number of leaves or duplicatures, is found within the air-bag, which probably secretes this air from the blood of the animal. (Monro.

Physiol. of Fish. p. 28.) To determine whether this air, when first separated from the blood of the animal or plant, be dephlogisticated air, is worthy inquiry. The bladder-sena (Colutea), and bladder-nut (Staphylaea), have their seed-vessels distended with air; the Ketmia has the upper joint of the stem immediately under the receptacle of the flower much distended with air; these seem to be a.n.a.logous to the air-vessel at the broad end of the egg, and may probably become less pure as the seed ripens: some, which I tried, had the purity of the surrounding atmosphere.

The air at the broad end of the egg is probably an organ serving the purpose of respiration to the young chick, some of whose vessels are spread upon it like a placenta, or permeate it. Many are of opinion that even the placenta of the human fetus, and cotyledons of quadrupeds, are respiratory organs rather than nutritious ones.

The air in the hollow stems of gra.s.ses, and of some umbelliferous plants, bears a.n.a.logy to the air in the quills, and in some of the bones of birds; supplying the place of the pith, which shrivels up after it has performed its office of protruding the young stem or feather. Some of these cavities of the bones are said to communicate with the lungs in birds. Phil. Trans.

The air-bladders of fish are nicely adapted to their intended purpose; for though they render them buoyant near the surface without the labour of using their fins, yet, when they rest at greater depths, they are no inconvenience, as the increased pressure of the water condenses the air which they contain into less s.p.a.ce. Thus, if a cork or bladder of air was immersed a very great depth in the ocean, it would be so much compressed, as to become specifically as heavy as the water, and would remain there.

It is probable the unfortunate Mr. Day, who was drowned in a diving-ship of his own construction, miscarried from not attending to this circ.u.mstance: it is probable the quant.i.ty of air he took down with him, if he descended much lower than he expected, was condensed into so small a s.p.a.ce as not to render the ship buoyant when he endeavoured to ascend.]

Her _secret_ vows the Cyprian Queen approves, 410 And hovering halcyons guard her infant-loves; Each in his floating cradle round they throng, And dimpling Ocean bears the fleet along.-- Thus o'er the waves, which gently bend and swell, Fair GALATEA steers her silver sh.e.l.l;

415 Her playful Dolphins stretch the silken rein, Hear her sweet voice, and glide along the main.

As round the wild meandering coast she moves By gushing rills, rude cliffs, and nodding groves; Each by her pine the Wood-nymphs wave their locks, 420 And wondering Naiads peep amid the rocks; Pleased trains of Mermaids rise from coral cells, Admiring Tritons sound their twisted sh.e.l.ls; Charm'd o'er the car pursuing Cupids sweep, Their snow-white pinions twinkling in the deep; 425 And, as the l.u.s.tre of her eye she turns, Soft sighs the Gale, and amorous Ocean burns.

On DOVE'S green brink the fair TREMELLA stood, And view'd her playful image in the flood;

[_Tremella_, l. 427. Clandestine marriage. I have frequently observed fungusses of this Genus on old rails and on the ground to become a transparent jelly, after they had been frozen in autumnal mornings; which is a curious property, and distinguishes them from some other vegetable mucilage; for I have observed that the paste, made by boiling wheat-flour in water, ceases to be adhesive after having been frozen. I suspected that the Tremella Nostoc, or star-jelly, also had been thus produced; but have since been well informed, that the Tremella Nostoc is a mucilage voided by Herons after they have eaten frogs; hence it has the appearance of having been pressed through a hole; and limbs of frogs are said sometimes to be found amongst it; it is always seen upon plains or by the sides of water, places which Herons generally frequent.

Some of the Fungusses are so acrid, that a drop of their juice blisters the tongue; others intoxicate those who eat them. The Ostiacks in Siberia use them for the latter purpose; one Fungus of the species, Agaricus muscarum, eaten raw; or the decoction of three of them, produces intoxication for 12 or 16 hours. History of Russia. V. 1. Nichols. 1780.

As all acrid plants become less so, if exposed to a boiling heat, it is probable the common mushroom may sometimes disagree from being not sufficiently stewed. The Oftiacks blister their skin by a fungus found on Birch-trees; and use the Agiricus officin. for Soap. ib.

There was a dispute whether the fungusses should be cla.s.sed in the animal or vegetable department. Their animal taste in cookery, and their animal smell when burnt, together with their tendency to putrefaction, insomuch that the Phallus impudicus has gained the name of stink-horn; and lastly, their growing and continuing healthy without light, as the Licoperdon tuber or truffle, and the fungus vinosus or mucor in dark cellars, and the esculent mushrooms on beds covered thick with straw, would seem to shew that they approach towards the animals, or make a kind of isthmus connecting the two mighty kingdoms of animal and of vegetable nature.]

To each rude rock, lone dell, and echoing grove 430 Sung the sweet sorrows of her _secret_ love.

"Oh, stay!--return!"--along the sounding sh.o.r.e Cry'd the sad Naiads,--she return'd no more!-- Now girt with clouds the sullen Evening frown'd, And withering Eurus swept along the ground; 435 The misty moon withdrew her horned light, And sunk with Hesper in the skirt of night;

No dim electric streams, (the northern dawn,) With meek effulgence quiver'd o'er the lawn; No star benignant shot one transient ray 440 To guide or light the wanderer on her way.

Round the dark craggs the murmuring whirlwinds blow, Woods groan above, and waters roar below; As o'er the steeps with pausing foot she moves, The pitying Dryads shriek amid their groves; 445 She flies,--she stops,--she pants--she looks behind, And hears a demon howl in every wind.

--As the bleak blast unfurls her fluttering vest, Cold beats the snow upon her shuddering breast; Through her numb'd limbs the chill sensations dart, 450 And the keen ice bolt trembles at her heart.

"I sink, I fall! oh, help me, help!" she cries, Her stiffening tongue the unfinish'd sound denies; Tear after tear adown her cheek succeeds, And pearls of ice bestrew the glittering meads; 455 Congealing snows her lingering feet surround, Arrest her flight, and root her to the ground; With suppliant arms she pours the silent prayer; Her suppliant arms hang crystal in the air; Pellucid films her shivering neck o'erspread, 460 Seal her mute lips, and silver o'er her head, Veil her pale bosom, glaze her lifted hands, And shrined in ice the beauteous statue stands.

--DOVE'S azure nymphs on each revolving year For fair TREMELLA shed the tender tear; 465 With rush-wove crowns in sad procession move, And sound the sorrowing sh.e.l.l to hapless love."

Here paused the MUSE,--across the darken'd pole Sail the dim clouds, the echoing thunders roll; The trembling Wood-nymphs, as the tempest lowers, 470 Lead the gay G.o.ddess to their inmost bowers; Hang the mute lyre the laurel shade beneath, And round her temples bind the myrtle wreath.

--Now the light swallow with her airy brood Skims the green meadow, and the dimpled flood; 475 Loud shrieks the lone thrush from his leafless thorn, Th' alarmed beetle sounds his bugle horn; Each pendant spider winds with fingers fine His ravel'd clue, and climbs along the line; Gay Gnomes in glittering circles stand aloof 480 Beneath a spreading mushroom's fretted roof; Swift bees returning seek their waxen cells, And Sylphs cling quivering in the lily's bells.

Through the still air descend the genials showers, And pearly rain-drops deck the laughing flowers.

INTERLUDE.

_Bookseller_. Your verses, Mr. Botanist, consist of _pure description_, I hope there is _sense_ in the notes.

_Poet_. I am only a flower-painter, or occasionally attempt a landskip; and leave the human figure with the subjects of history to abler artists.

_B._ It is well to know what subjects are within the limits of your pencil; many have failed of success from the want of this self-knowledge.

But pray tell me, what is the essential difference between Poetry and Prose? is it solely the melody or measure of the language?

_P._ I think not solely; for some prose has its melody, and even measure.

And good verses, well spoken in a language unknown to the hearer, are not easily to be distinguished from good prose. _B_. Is it the sublimity, beauty, or novelty of the sentiments?

_P_. Not so; for sublime sentiments are often better expressed in prose.

Thus when Warwick in one of the plays of Shakespear, is left wounded on the field after the loss of the battle, and his friend says to him, "Oh, could you but fly!" what can be more sublime than his answer, "Why then, I would not fly." No measure of verse, I imagine, could add dignity to this sentiment. And it would be easy to select examples of the beautiful or new from prose writers, which I suppose no measure of verse could improve.

_B_. In what then consists the essential difference between Poetry and Prose?

_P_. Next to the measure of the language, the princ.i.p.al distinction appears to me to consist in this: that Poetry admits of but few words expressive of very abstracted ideas, whereas Prose abounds with them. And as our ideas derived from visible objects are more distinct than those derived from the objects of our other senses, the words expressive of these ideas belonging to vision make up the princ.i.p.al part of poetic language. That is, the Poet writes princ.i.p.ally to the eye, the Prose-writer uses more abstracted terms. Mr. Pope has written a bad verse in the Windsor Forest:

"And Kennet swift for silver Eels _renown'd_."

The word renown'd does not present the idea of a visible object to the mind, and is thence prosaic. But change this line thus,

"And Kennet swift, where silver Graylings _play_."

and it becomes poetry, because the scenery is then brought before the eye.

_B_. This may be done in prose.

_P_. And when it is done in a single word, it animates the prose; so it is more agreeable to read in Mr. Gibbon's History, "Germany was at this time _over-shadowed_ with extensive forests;" than Germany was at this time _full_ of extensive forests. But where this mode of expression occurs too frequently, the prose approaches to poetry: and in graver works, where we expect to be instructed rather than amused, it becomes tedious and impertinent. Some parts of Mr. Burke's eloquent orations become intricate and enervated by superfluity of poetic ornament; which quant.i.ty of ornament would have been agreeable in a poem, where much ornament is expected.

_B_. Is then the office of poetry only to amuse?

_P_. The Muses are young ladies, we expect to see them dressed; though not like some modern beauties with so much gauze and feather, that "the Lady herself is the least part of her." There are however didactic pieces of poetry, which are much admired, as the Georgics of Virgil, Mason's English Garden, Hayley's Epistles; nevertheless Science is best delivered in Prose, as its mode of reasoning is from stricter a.n.a.logies than metaphors or similies.

_B_. Do not Personifications and Allegories distinguish poetry?

_P_. These are other arts of bringing objects before the eye; or of expressing sentiments in the language of vision; and are indeed better suited to the pen than the pencil.

_B_. That is strange, when you have just said they are used to bring their objects before the eye.

_P_. In poetry the personification or allegoric figure is generally indistinct, and therefore does not strike us as forcibly as to make us attend to its improbability; but in painting, the figures being all much more distinct, their improbability becomes apparent, and seizes our attention to it. Thus the person of Concealment is very indistinct and therefore does not compel us to attend to its improbability, in the following beautiful lines of Shakespear:

"--She never told her love; But let Concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, Feed on her damask cheek."--

But in these lines below the person of Reason obtrudes itself into our company, and becomes disagreeable by its distinctness, and consequent improbability.

"To Reason I flew, and intreated her aid, Who paused on my case, and each circ.u.mstance weigh'd; Then gravely reply'd in return to my prayer, That Hebe was fairest of all that were fair.

That's a truth, reply'd I, I've no need to be taught, I came to you, Reason, to find out a fault.

If that's all, says Reason, return as you came, To find fault with Hebe would forfeit my name."

Allegoric figures are on this account in general less manageable in painting and in statuary than in poetry: and can seldom be introduced in the two former arts in company with natural figures, as is evident from the ridiculous effect of many of the paintings of Rubens in the Luxemburgh gallery; and for this reason, because their improbability becomes more striking, when there are the figures of real persons by their side to compare them with. Mrs. Angelica Kauffman, well apprised of this circ.u.mstance, has introduced no mortal figures amongst her Cupids and her Graces. And the great Roubiliac, in his unrivalled monument of Time and Fame struggling for the trophy of General Fleming, has only hung up a medallion of the head of the hero of the piece. There are however some allegoric figures, which we have so often heard described or seen delineated, that we almost forget that they do not exist in common life; and hence view them without astonishment; as the figures of the heathen mythology, of angels, devils, death and time; and almost believe them to be realities, even when they are mixed with representations of the natural forms of man. Whence I conclude, that a certain degree of probability is necessary to prevent us from revolting with distaste from unnatural images; unless we are otherwise so much interested in the contemplation of them as not to perceive their improbability.