MANY of our readers probably look back with pleasure on the expeditions of their early youth, when, with friends that time and change may now have severed from them, they set out to the woods for a day's "nutting." Duly prepared for an encounter with briars and brambles, bearing on the shoulder the long nutting crook and ample wallet, they may have passed many a happy hour in exploring woods and intricate paths, and making their way through all the difficulties presented by thorny brakes and beds of matted fern, until they reached some untrodden nook, surrounded with hazel bushes, where they were repaid for all their toil by finding a rich harvest of nuts. The excitement attending these excursions, the search, sometimes a long protracted one, ere a favourable spot is discovered, the cool shades that are explored, the perfect liberty that is enjoyed by all the party, the separations in quest of fruitful trees, the unexpected meetings when each thought he had chosen a distinct path, the rural meal enjoyed beneath some aged oak, where moss and harebells form the carpeting on which the weary party reposes,-all these things make a day spent in nutting one of the pleasantest and merriest days of the year to young people, and one of the most agreeable to look back on when youth has passed away. As the period of the year has nearly arrived when these pleasures may be and will be enjoyed by numbers of our young friends, we propose to offer them some account of the trees and fruit they so much admire, with the improved varieties obtained by cultivation, and several interesting particulars respecting the history of these trees, and of the insects by which they are infested. The botanical name of the common hazel-nut is Corylus Avellana, The word corylus is from the Greek, and signifies a bonnet or helmet: the Roman name of Avellana was added on account of the abundant growth of the hazel in the neighbourhood of Avellino, a city of Southern Italy, where, in good years, the profit resulting to the inhabitants from these trees was said to be 60,000 ducats. We have still to inquire the derivation of the common name, hazel. This appears to come from hosil, the Saxon term for a head-dress, so that the English, as well as the Greek term, bears allusion to the peculiar growth of the green calyx of the nut, which shields and envelopes the fruit in the same way that a helmet or bonnet protects the head. The hazel is a native of all the cooler parts of Europe, Northern Asia, and North America, and from it are derived all the numerous varieties of nuts and filberts now in cultivation. That it is indigenous to our island there can be little doubt: it seems to have been especially prevalent in the northern parts of the kingdom, for Sir William Temple says, "The northwest part was called CAL-DUN, signifying hills of hazel, with which it was covered, from which the Romans, forming an easy and pleasant sound from what was harsh to their classical ear, gave it the name of CALEDONIA." Hazel-wood and nuts are frequently found in the peat-bogs of that country, and some of the latter have even vegetated, notwithstanding the length of time which they have probably remained in the bogs. In almost every part of Eng land we meet with hedges or coppices of hazel, or find it thickening the approaches to woods. The soil which produces the most plentiful growth of these trees is that which is somewhat mossy, and retentive of moisture; but they are found likewise in high and mountainous situations, and on a sandy or even rocky soil. Evelyn speaks of their prospering where quarries of freestone lie underneath, and cites three examples, i.e., Hazelmere, in Surry; Hazelbury, in Wiltshire; and Hazelingfield, in Cambridgeshire. If suffered to attain their full growth in a favourable situation, hazles will sometimes shoot out poles to the length of twenty feet; but they are usually cut down before this length has been attained, and applied to the various purposes which we shall presently mention. The hazel, from its shrubby and inferior growth scarcely deserves to rank as a forest tree: we find it, however, universally described as such, and, indeed, the agreeableness of its fruit, and the usefulness of its wood go far to compensate for its dwarfish appearance. It is also a very early and pleasing herald of the spring's approach; the yellowish-green catkins presenting perhaps the earliest symptom of vegetable expansion in the month of January, when they generally begin to unfold. The fruit-bearing buds do not show themselves till the latter end of February, or the beginning of March, when they burst, and disclosing the bright crimson of their shafts, look extremely beautiful. Then Hazel-buds with crimson gems, Green and glossy sallows, and various other indications of the approach of the genial season delight the eyes of those who are sighing for the days of warm sunshine, gentle airs, and sweet flowers. The hazel is known by its shrubby habit, by its broad leafy husks, much lacerated and spreading at the point, by its roundish heart-shaped leaves, and rough light-coloured bark. Its wood is of close and even grain, and the roots beautifully veined. Of the agreeable flavour of the fruit we have hardly need to speak. The nuts abound with a mild oil, which may be extracted by expression. On account of the presence of this oil nuts are often found injurious to weak stomachs, particularly the common hazel-nut, which contains a much larger proportion of it than the filbert. They are likewise considered to be difficult of digestion, and therefore should be eaten sparingly. The uses of the hazel are many: the roots afford beautiful wood for inlaying; the suckers and branches form walking-sticks, fishing-rods, stakes, hurdles, hoops, panniers, and baskets. Excellent charcoal is obtained from the wood, and artists are thus supplied with crayons, which are preferred to all others, for the freedom of the strokes produced, and the ease with which they can be erased. Chips of hazel-wood are said to purify muddy wine, in the space of twentyfour hours. The nuts are so agreeable to most palates that immense quantities are consumed every year: nay so great is the demand for this fruit that the produce of our own woods is insufficient to meet it, and more than a hundred thousand bushels of foreign nuts are annually imported. Nuts form the favourite food of the squirrel, who lays up a hoard every year for winter use, and carefully selects the best he can find for that purpose. The oil obtained from nuts is sometimes used by painters for mixing their colours. Before we proceed to notice the superstitious customs connected with the hazel, we must mention two or three foreign species, as distinguished by botanists. Corylus rostrata, or the horned hazel-nut, is a species inhabiting the mountains of the Carolinas. Even when cultivated, it seldom exceeds four feet in height, and is otherwise known from the common hazel by the comparative smoothness of the bark, the different shape of the leaves, which are oblong instead of heartshaped, and the globular form of the husks. Corylus colurna, the Constantinople nut, is a white-barked tree, twenty feet in height, with an erect trunk and spreading head. The leaves of this tree are shining, much less wrinkled than those of our hazel, heartshaped, and slightly hairy on the under surface. The branches are destitute of glands, the husks are bell-shaped, and the nuts roundish and very hard. It seldom produces nuts in this climate. There are two other species of hazel, found in the Himalaya mountains, not very different from those already mentioned: one is named Corylus lacera, the other Corylus ferox. Among the many charms or superstitious customs connected with the vigil of All Saints' Day, the burning of nuts is one, and Allhallows Eve has therefore acquired in some places the name of nut-crack night. These practices are more common perhaps in Scotland than among ourselves; but even in remote parts of England we find many vestiges of those ancient customs, the original forms of which have been presented to us by Brand, and other writers. The vain wish to penetrate the secrets of futurity, and to discover how much of good or ill is likely to be blended in the lot, is the natural feeling of every uninstructed mind, and in proportion to the ignorance which prevails in any particular country or district is the importance attached to customs such as we are alluding to. The burning of nuts on Allhallows' Eve is a very favourite charm, and according to the manner in which they burn, the happiness or misery of many an affianced pair is foretold. If the nuts, when they are placed on the fire, burn quietly side by side with a steady flame, the persons represented by them are to be faithful to each other, and lead a happy life; if a nut cracks, or starts from the fire, the youth or damsel whose name it bears is to prove untrue, or the marriage to prove unfortunate. This old custom has been noticed in the following lines: ON NUT-BURNING, ALLHALLOWS' EVE. Till life's fierce ordeal being past, Their mingled ashes rest at last.-GRAYDON. The above is but one out of the many superstitions respecting hazel-nuts. It was formerly affirmed that the oil contained in the kernels was an antidote for poison; that by means of wands made of hazel divinations could be performed, subterraneous treasures discovered, &c., &c. On this subject we refer our readers to the ninth volume of the Saturday Magazine, p. 36. We cannot conclude without noticing old Culpeper's warm vindication of hazel-nuts from the charge of being unwholesome. After recommending the milky juice of the kernels with mead or honeywater as a remedy for a cough, (or, if it be preferred, an electuary made of the kernels themselves,) he says And if this be true, as it is, then why should the vulgar so familiarly affirm that eating nuts causeth shortness of breath? than which nothing is falser. For how can that which strengthens the lungs cause shortness of breath? I confess the opinion is far older than I am: I knew tradition was friend to error before, but never that he was the father of slander; or are men's tongues so given to slandering one another that they must slander nuts too, to keep their tongues in use? If anything of the hazel-nut be stopping, it is the husks and shells, and nobody is so mad to eat them except physically; and the red skin which covers the kernel you may easily pull off. And so thus have I made an apology for nuts, which cannot speak for themselves. THE INFLUENCE OF FLOWERS. THE interest which flowers have excited in the breast of man, from the earliest ages to the present day, has never been confined to any particular class of society, or quarter of the globe. Nature seems to have scattered them over the world, as a medicine to the mind, to give cheerfulness to the earth, and furnish agreeable sensations to its inhabitants. The savage of the forests, in the joy of his heart, binds his brow with the native flowers of his woods, whilst their cultivation increases in every country in proportion as the blessings of civilization extend. Of all luxurious indulgences, that of flowers is the most innocent,-they are of all embellishments the most beautiful, and of all created beings, man alone seems capable of deriving enjoyment from them, which commences with his infancy, remains the delight of his youth, increases with his years, and becomes the quiet amusement of his age. Every rank of people seem equally to enjoy flowers as a gratification to the organs of sight and smell; but to the botanist, and the close observer of nature, beauties are unfolded and wonders displayed that cannot be conceived by the careless attention of the multitude, who regard these ornaments of nature as wild or savage persons would do a watch: they are dazzled with the splendour of the case and the beauty of the appendages, but look no further, because they know not where to look. The artist, while he enjoys the external covering, looks into the interior, and as he regards the movements and learns the various uses, he is struck with admiration at the ingenuity of the mechanism. The botanist has the same delight when he looks into the blossoms of flowers; for he there beholds the wonderful works of the Almighty with amazement-there he sees movements and regulations, with which all the combined ingenuity of man cannot compare. Flowers have ever been the favourite embellishment of the fair in all ages and countries. They have been made the happy accompaniment of bridal parties, and they have likewise been made the representatives of regard to deceased friends-thus ornamenting alike the joyous altar and the silent tomb. Flowers have also formed a principal feature in symbolical language, which is the most ancient as well as the most natural of all written languages. The fondness for plants is natural to all men who possess the least sensibility; and however their attention may be engaged by other pursuits, it generally happens that this predilection shows itself during some period of their lives. Nature seems to have designed men for the culture of her works, and to have ordained that we should be born gardeners, since our earliest inclinations lead us to the cultivation of flowers. The infant can no sooner walk than its first employment is to plant a flower in the earth, removing it ten times in an hour to wherever the sun seems to shine more favourably. The schoolboy, in the care of his little plot of ground, lessens the anxious thoughts of the home he has left. In manhood our attention is gene years. rally demanded by more active and imperious duties; but, as age obliges us to retire from public business, the love of gardening returns to soothe our declining The truth of this is daily made manifest to us by the fact that those persons devote themselves to gardening, whose busy occupations in other pursuits we should have thought must have given a distaste for this quiet employment. We shall notice some of the advantages which are derived from a fondness for this pursuit. First, it attaches men to their homes; and on this account every encouragement should be given to increase a taste for gardening, in general, in country towns and villages. It is a recreation which conduces materially to health, considerably promotes civilization, and softens the manners and tempers of men: it creates a love of the study of nature, which leads to a contemplation of the mysterious wonders that are displayed in the vegetable world around us; and these cannot be investigated without bending the mind towards a just sense of religion, and a due acknowledgement of the narrow limits of our intelligence, compared with the incomprehensible power and wisdom of God. Addison observes that "it gives us a great insight into the contrivance and wisdom of Providence, and suggests innumerable subjects for meditation. I cannot," says he, "but think the very complacency and satisfaction which a man takes in these works of nature, to be a laudable, if not a virtuous habit of mind." In the flower-garden, the student in chemistry will find how imperfect is his art in comparison with natural chemistry, which distils from the earth, and conveys by distinct channels, in the smallest stem, all that is necessary to produce foliage flowers, and fruit, together with colour, smell, and taste; the most opposite fluids and liquids being separated only by divisions, so delicate ao scarcely to be deemed as substance. The research into the wonders displayed in vegetation may be entered into without hurting the sensibility of the most tender feelings, as plants and roots may be dissected without those disagreeable sensations which follow the dissection of animals. Amongst the delights of the garden, the pleasure of presenting flowers to our friends is not the least. Bouquets of flowers may be safely presented, to acknowledge obligations, or to show respect, where, in many instances, any other return for favours received would appear impertinent, or look like a desire to be discharged of the obligation conferred on us. They are a kind of present that may be made between equals and mutual friends to show regard, and that may also be made by the poorest peasant girl to the richest peeress of the realm without fear of offence. To those who are confined to the metropolis, or other large cities or towns, where they are debarred from the enjoyment of a garden, a basket of flowers of the season is received as one of the most agreeable presents; and when these are known to be the produce of the parterres over which we gambolled in our childhood, or presided in our youth, the gift becomes doubly acceptable: they picture to the imagination happy scenes of our younger days, and throw present cares aside, to recall to our "mind's eye" the minutiæ of the garden: each border seems to arise fresh to our ideas; each clump of pinks, each bower of woodbines, and each bank of violets, are instantly pourtrayed to our memory. These are frequently accompanied by other recollections, which seem to present us with a momentary sight of some kind and benevolent friend; the good nurse of our infancy, or some favourite domestic of our youth: our fancy pictures them between the borders of their little plots. The well-known lilactree, and the old cabbage rose-bush, start up in the picture; whilst the quince-tree, or the wide spreading medlar, presents itself to the memory, as half hiding the well repaired sty, which we ever wish to regard as forming the pride of the industrious cottager, These momentary visions bring the harmony of the poets to our recollection, and we are almost ready to exclaim,— That hut is mine; that cottage half embowered KIRKE WHITE. On this subject we may justly use the lines of Miss Mitford, who says: "Twere hard to sing thy varying charm, Of all that useful is and rare, [PHILLIPS, Flora Historica.] LET not seducing dreams leave us a prey to ambitious and disappointing desires at our awakening. It is in the sphere where Providence has placed us that we must search for the means or being useful; and if there are pleasures which belong only to opulence, there are others which can best be found in mediocrity. Perhaps, in giving ourselves riches, we shall realize but half the dream of virtue and contentment. 'It seems to me," says Plato," that gold and virtue were placed in the opposite scales of a balance; that we cannot throw an additional weight into one scale, without subtracting an equal amount from the other."—D. AMONG the obstacles which are at war with our repose, one of the greatest, and at the same time the most frivolous, is instead of becoming calmly sufficient to ourselves.-D. the fatal necessity of becoming of importance to others, I CAN conceive that a depraved man will commit fewer faults, in yielding to the caprices of opinion, than in abandoning himself to his own errors. There are cruel passions and shameful vices, which he reproves even in the midst of his aberrations; but in so doing he gives to falsehood the name of politeness, and to cowardice the title of prudence. His favourite inculcation is the terror of ridicule; whereas, to form true men, it is indispensable that this precept should be engraven on their hearts-Fear nothing but remorse.-D. A VIRTUE which at least commends the esteem of our fellow creatures is integrity. Not only is he who practises it faithful to his engagements, since he allows no promises of his to be held slight, but his uprightness makes itself felt in all his actions, and frankness in all his conversation. The faults that he commits he is prompt to acknowledge; he confesses them without false shame, and seeks neither to exaggerate nor extenuate them. Touching the interests which are common to him and other people, he decides for simple justice; and, in so awarding, does not deem that he injures himself, his first possession being his own selfrespect. Without rendering me high services, he obliges me in the lesser charities, and procures me one of the most vivid pleasures I can taste, that of contemplating a noble character.-D. No. 527. SEPTEMBER Magazine. PRICE ONE PENNY. LOUTH Church, in the eastern part of Lincolnshire, is one of the finest examples which England presents of the style of architecture prevalent shortly before the Reformation; and it is further remarkable from the fact that scarcely any of the stone of this building is to be found in that part of the country, so that the parties who built it, notwithstanding their limited funds, had to send to a considerable distance for building materials. The body of the church is supposed to have been built about the middle of the fifteenth century; and the tower, which is much superior to it, somewhat later, probably in the reigns of Richard the Third and Henry the Seventh. the west end. At the east end-the one shown in our cut-is a large central window of seven lights, with very beautiful tracery, and two lateral windows, admitting light into the side aisles: the tracery work of the large window is well relieved by a pair of niched and canopied buttresses; and the whole is finished at the top by an angular point, supporting a fleury cross. The exterior of the sides of the church are now rather plain; although there appear to have been originally figures of saints placed in appropriate niches: the walls are embattled, and have numerous crocketed pinnacles. The interior of the church exhibits architectural he church consists of a nave, chancel, and aisles, details of different dates, the middle and side aisles with a lofty and singularly elegant tower and spire at appearing to be the oldest part of the building; while VOL. XVII. 527 the chancel appears to have been erected at the same period as the steeple. The nave is separated from the aisles by octagonal columns, the alternate sides of which are relieved by single flutes; and the pointed arches between the columns are groined by arcs of circles whose centres are the opposite imposts. Above the pillars is a range of windows, which admit light to the top of the middle aisle. The chancel, which, as we have observed, is rather more modern than the other part of the body of the church, is divided into a middle and side aisles by means of pillars: each of these pillars is composed of four circular shafts, forming a quatrefoil, connected at the corners by a cove, and their bases rest upon very high plinths, surrounded by fascia. But by far the most attractive feature of this church is the tower, with the spire with which it is surmounted, and which is one of the loftiest in England. The entire steeple may be considered as consisting of four parts, a tower, divided into three stages, and a spire. The whole steeple is supported by its four corners, consisting on the outside of similar buttresses, two at each angle. Each inside corner of these abutments swells into an elegant clustered threequarter pillar, resting on a plinth about four feet high, and surrounded with double fascias. From the capitals of these pillars spring four pointed arches, which meet in the centre: one of these arches forms the western entrance to the church; another forms a communication between the steeple and the body of the church; and the remaining two are seen externally, and are open as high as the side aisles, the space above being occupied as windows. Above the arches which terminate the lower stage or story of the steeple is a gallery extending round it, at a height of fifty-three feet from the floor, and guarded by a balustrade of tracery-work. The second story now commences, and is about thirtythree feet in height, having eight large regular pointed windows to light the interior, two on each side: these windows are separated from each other, at the corners and middle of the sides, by shafts and cornice-work: and from these shafts spring diagonal ribbed arches, which support a beautiful dome-shaped summit to this part of the steeple. We have now reached a height of about eighty-eight feet above the ground; and at this point a gallery, guarded by a parapet, runs round the exterior of the steeple: above this is the third stage of the steeple, which adds about sixty feet more to its height, with two highly ornamented windows in each face, surmounted by crocketed canopies in bold relief. Here, at a height of one hundred and forty-seven feet above the ground, terminates the tower by a series of battlements, each side of which is pierced by embrasures. Above the tower is the delicate spire, shooting up to a height nearly equal to that of the tower itself, so that the total height from the ground to the summit of the spire is very little short of three hundred feet. The spire is octangular; and four of its sides are connected with the corner turrets by spandrels or flying buttresses of light and elegant workmanship. In the remaining four faces, opposite to the four cardinal points, are small pointed windows, and the edge of each face is ornamented with crockets, which contribute much to the decorated appearance of the spire. The buttresses at the four corners of the❘ tower contract as they advance in height, still preserving the fine proportion between their several parts: at each contraction the preceding or lower stage terminates with elegant pediments supported by grotesque projecting corbels: these pediments are each formed by two graceful curves, the compartments of which are filled up with bold relief and the outward edges are adorned with crockets similar to those of the spire. Such is the church of St. James at Louth, and the reader will judge from the description, that it is a beautiful specimen of architectural skill. Who were the parties by whom the expense of the erection was defrayed is not now well known; but a document which, though now probably lost, has fortunately been partially copied into the Archæologia, affords us some curious information respecting the details of expense incurred during the erection. The book to which we here allude was a M.S., written, it is supposed, by an inhabitant of the town of Louth, and containing many details respecting the antiquities of the church and other parts of the town. Its existence can be traced back to the year 1688, after which time it was sometimes kept in the "paryshe cheste," and at other times lent out to enterteyne" the inhabitants. The last notice found of the book is in a parish entry, to the following effect: "Mem. June 16, 1734. The parish clerk stands chargeable with Imprs, among other things Item. A book giving account of the edifices and buildings of the church and steeple, &c., and curiosities thereof." Before the book was missing, some of the inhabitants took extracts from it, and one of these extracts was procured by Sir Joseph Banks, and inserted in the tenth volume of the Archæologia. " The extract from this old book gives the prices paid for stone, the price of carriage from the quarrell (quarry) to Louth, the wages of workmen, and numerous other items, of which we will here give a few of such sort as will illustrate the difference in the commercial value of labour and materials at that time, as compared with that of the present day. Item, paid to William Nettleton for riding to the quarrell to buy stone for the steeple, and for to get a master mason to take s. d. 20 0 3 Item, paid to John Cole, master mason, and to William Johnson, riding to the quarrell for to buy stone for the steeple.. 3 4 Item, paid to William Thomas, to fetch him divers things.... 0 10 Item, paid for packthread, glue, and nails Mem. That master master and William Johnson bought stone at the quarrell of Roger Hawking and Edmund Shepherd, 100 foot, price a foot 2td.; and to William Camworth 100 foot, price a foot 2td.; also to John Glover, for eight load of great stone, 3s. 4d and also to the said master and William for their costs 3s. 4d. It appears that at one time the master master quarrelled with his employers, for there is the following entry : Item, paid Lawrence Mason for riding to his master in North Country, to ask him whether he would make entry of the steeple, and he said he would deal no more with it, but he showed his councel .... 6 8 Item, William Walker and Lawrence Mason, riding to Boston to speak with master master to make end of steeple 20 The details are exceedingly minute and curious but the above will be a sufficient sample of them. The stone employed seems to have cost from two to three-pence per cubic foot: lime and mortar about sixpence per bushel: one yew-tree from the abbot's grounds, three and four-pence, with about a shilling more for felling, carting, &c. : twenty-four fathoms of great cable, to wind up the stones, sixteen shillings. The entire expense of the steeple amounted to about three hundred pounds. The account book also states the weight and value of several bells which were placed in the steeple, and the sum paid to one William Foster for "riding to the bell-maker at Nottingham to see the bells cast." The original spire was blown down on the 11th of October, 1634, and the present one erected under the direction of Thomas Turner, at an expense of only 1357. |