[2] Unless it be Canon John Vaughan, in those two delightful books of his, The Wild-Flowers of Selborne and The Music of Wild-Flowers.

[3] From Shelley's short lyric, "The Question," perhaps the most beautiful flower-poem in the language.

[4] Flora of Surrey, by J. A. Brewer, 1863.

[5] Essay on "Wild Flowers," in The Open Air.

[6] So, too, had the poet Wordsworth; of whom William Morris, who disliked the Wordsworthian cult, used to say, in explanation of such antipathy: "The fellow couldn't smell."

[7] See the beautiful chapter on "The Living Garment," in Mr. W. H. Hudson's Nature in Downland.

[8] Quoted in A Garden of Herbs, by E. S. Rohde.

[9] From My Rock Garden, by Reginald Farrer, p. 257.

[10] Æneid, I. 691-4.

[11] See note on p. 12.

[12] Natural History of Selborne, ch. lvi.

[13] Thrice blest, if they but knew what joys are theirs!

[14] The Herball, by J. Gerarde. Enlarged and amended by Thomas Johnson, 1636.

[15] Not so obtuse of heart we Tyrians are.

[16] Rabbits eat the leaves without harm to themselves, but their flesh becomes injurious to human beings. A case of poisoning of this sort was lately reported from Oxted.

[17] For a charming description of the purple saxifrage, see Holidays in High Lands, by Hugh Macmillan (1869).

[18] See The Flora of Carnarvonshire, by John E. Griffith, and A Flora of the English Lake District, by J. G. Baker, two books which are of great value in showing the localities of mountain plants.

[19] In Parkinson's Theatrum Botanicum (1640) it is remarked of rose-root that it grows "oftentimes in the ruggiest places, and most dangerous of them, scarce accessible, and so steepe that they may soon tumble downe that doe not very warily looke to their footing."

[20] Wild Flowers of Scotland, by J. H. Crawford.

[21] In the Cairngorm mountains, the globe-flower ascends to a height of 3,000 feet (see Mr. Seton Gordon's Wanderings of a Naturalist); in the Alps to 8,000.

[22] "This [herb] was choice, because of prime use in medicine; and that, more choice, for yielding a rare flavour to pottage; and a third choicest of all, because possessed of no merit but its extreme scarcity."—Scott's Quentin Durward.