A mass of pencilled passages, marked in my books,
lying around my desk, by numerous dog's-ears, offer
themselves for quotation, but I must limit my selections.
I have been writing in the midst of all a New England
autumn's glory. October in Massachusetts is the most
picturesque of all the months. The harvest is in,
the orchards are yielding up their red and golden fruit-
age, the brown and polished chesnuts are falling from
their husks, the oaks are shedding their brown cupped
acorns,-the maple, the ash, the low sumac are putting |
on their brilliant coloring, the hectic glow that tells of
speedy decline, and early death,—and, as Bryant says,
“The melancholy days are come,--the saddest of the year!"

Yet why are they called "melancholy"?

"What is there saddening in the autumn leaves?
Have they that green and yellow melancholy
That the sweet poet spoke of? Had he seen
Our variegated woods, when first the frost
Turns into beauty all October's charms,
When the storms

Of the wild Equinox, with all its wet,
Has left the land, as the first deluge left it,
With a bright bow of many colors hung
Upon the forest-tops,--he had not sighed."

Brainard.

Again, he asks-"What can be more beautiful than trees? Their lofty trunks, august in their simplicity, asserting to the most inexperienced eye, their infinite superiority over the imitative pillars of man's pride; their graceful play of wide-spreading branches; and all the delicate and glorious machinery of buds, leaves, flowers, and fruit, that, with more than magical effect, burst forth from naked and rigid twigs, with all the rich and brilliant colors under heaven; breathing delectable odors, pure, fresh, and animating; pouring out spices and medicinal essences; and making music, from the softest and most melancholy undertones to the full organ-peal of the tempest. I wonder not that trees have commanded the admiration of men, in all nations and periods of the world. What is the richest country without trees? What barren and monotonous spot can they not convert into a paradise? Xerxes, in the midst of his most ambitious enterprise, stopped his vast army to contemplate the beauty of a tree," &c.: and so he goes on in a strain which impels the wish on my part that Messenger articles might be extended, ad libitum, and that your readers could have the whole of this delicious essay spread before them. One passage more, beautiful and timely, I must transcribe.

"It is in this month, [October,] that woods may be

It is now the time of "The Hunter's Moon," and, to pronounced most beautiful. Towards the end of it, quote this sweet poet once more,

"The moon stays longest for the hunter now,-
The trees cast down their fruitage, and the blithe
And busy squirrel hoards his winter store:
While we enjoy the breeze that sweeps along
The bright blue sky above us, and that bends
Magnificently all the forest's pride,

Or whispers through the evergreens, and asks,
'What is there saddening in the autumn leaves?'"

what is called the Fading of the Leaf, [with us, The Fall,] presents a magnificent spectacle. Every species of tree, so beautifully varied in its general character, the silver-stemmed and pensile-branched birch, the tall smooth beech, the wide-spreading oak and chestnut, each developes its own florid hue of orange, red, brown, or yellow, which, mingling with the green of unchanged trees, or the darkness of the pine, presents a tout ensemble rich, glowing, and splendid. Yet, fine as our woods are at this season, far are they exceeded by those of America; the greater variety of trees, and the greater effect of climate, conspiring to render them in decay gorgeous and beautiful beyond description."

Before this last of my lucubrations is turned to type, all this will have experienced a yet more striking change. The last leaf of the trees, the foliage of which falls at all, will have been whirled from their branches by the cold wintery winds, and the gigantic arms of the forest will be bared to the howling blasts that will shriek shrilly among them. The evergreens will retain

William Howitt, the husband of Mary, that sweet poetess, in his "Book of the Seasons," discourses with all the fondness of a true naturalist, of woods. He says, “ Ariosto, Tasso, Spenser, Shakspeare, and Milton, have sanctified them to the hearts of all generations. What a world of magnificent creations comes swarming upon the memory as we wander in woods! The gallant knights and beautiful dames, the magical castles and hippogriffs of the Orlando; the enchanted forest, the Armida and Erminia of the Gerusalemma Liberata; 'Fair Una, with her milk-white lamb,' and all the satyrs, Archimages, the fair Florimels and false a portion of their verdure, duller, however, than the Duessas of the Faery Queene; Ariel, and Caliban, Ja- summer tinting. Holly and mountain ash will alone ques, and the motley fool in Arden, the fairy troop of keep their red berries, and some few faded leaves will the Midsummer-Night's Dream, Oberon, Titania, and cling with desperate tenacity to their brown branches. that pleasantest of all mischief-makers, ineffable Puck, May the season prove one of undiminished comfort to -the noble spirits of the immortal Comus. With such all who have accompanied me in these my woodland company, woods are to us any thing but solitudes. | rambles ! May the "Christmas chimes" sounding What wisdom do we learn in the world, that they do merrily in their ears, welcome them to good cheer and not teach us better? What music do we hear like that happy fireside enjoyments: and among their chosen which bursts from the pipes of universal Pan, or comes topics of reflection, may the beauties and wonders of from some viewless source with the Æolian melodies of nature find a prominent place. May they cultivate a Faery-land? Whatever woods have been to all ages, taste, which every American should peculiarly cherish, to all descriptions of superior mind, to all the sages and as a sure source of the richest enjoyment, and the poets of the past world, they are to us. We have the highest mental and moral improvement,--the taste for varied whole of their sentiments, feelings and fancies, forest-trees. Our own Irving, of whom two worlds bequeathed as an immortal legacy, and combined and are justly proud, says truly that "there is something concentrated for our gratification and advantage,--be- | simple, and noble, and pure, in such a taste." It argues sides the innumerable pleasures which modern art has a sweet and generous nature to have this strong relish thrown to the accumulated wealth of all antiquity." for the beauties of vegetation, and this friendship for

It is probably beyond the bounds of our philosophic scrutiny to determine the final purpose of this singular organization. Whether it is constructed to answer some important end in the economy of the plant itself; or made in accordance with that law of diversity which is a leading principle in all the productions of nature, are questions involving much close and accurate observation for their solution.

the hardy and glorious sons of the forest. There is a | föld to the sun, prepared to ensnare some other roving grandeur of thought connected with this part of rural and unfortunate adventurer. economy. It is, if I may be allowed the figure, the heroic line of husbandry. It is worthy of liberal, and freeborn, and aspiring men. He who plants an oak, looks forward to future ages, and plants for posterity. Nothing can be less selfish than this. He cannot expect to sit in its shade, nor enjoy its shelter: but he exults in the idea, that the acorn which he has buried in the earth shall grow up into a lofty pile, and shall keep on flourishing, and increasing, and benefitting mankind, long after he shall have ceased to tread his paternal fields.

"Indeed, it is the nature of such occupations to lift the thoughts above mere worldliness. As the leaves of trees are said to absorb all noxious qualities of the air, and breathe forth a purer atmosphere, so, it seems to me, as if they drew from us all sordid and angry passions, and breathed forth peace and philanthropy. There is a serene and settled majesty in woodland scenery that enters into the soul, and dilates, and elevates it, and fills it with noble inclinations."

Indulgent reader, farewell! Newburyport, Oct. 7th, 1838.

J. F. O.

The generic name Dionca, is derived from Dione, one of the titles of Venus, on the account of the elegance and delicacy of its flowers, and its peculiar faculty of ensnaring-a trait of character chargeable upon the ancient goddess, and not unfrequently attended with a similar train of fatal and heartbound consequences.

ILEX VOMITORIA, OR SOUTH-SEA-TEA.

The popular designation of this species of Holly is Yaupon or Yopon, a name of Indian origin. It is also sometimes called Cassena. As not only our colonial, but even our botanical history is indebted for much of its originality and peculiar interest, to the aborigines of our country, we will briefly trace the Indian source of authority for the use of the favorite Yopon. "The savages of Carolina," says Lawson, an old author of much credit, "have this tea in veneration above all the

BOTANICAL NOTICES OF INTERESTING plants they are acquainted withal, and tell you the dis

PLANTS.

DIONA MUSIPULA, OR VENUS' FLY-TRAP.

This vegetable curiosity, of which we propose to give a short description, is peculiar to the southern states. It grows in great abundance around Wilmington, N. C.; extending as far north as Newbern, and from the mouth of the Cape Fear nearly to Fayetteville. Hitherto the observations of botanists have pointed out but few localities. Elliott says, on the authority of Gen. Pinckney, that it grows in South Carolina on the lower tributaries of the Santee. Audubon also found it in Florida of enormous size. It is therefore probable that it inhabits the savannahs more or less abundantly, from the latter place to Newbern.

covery thereof was by an infirm Indian, that labored under the burden of many rugged distempers, and could not be cured by all their doctors; so, one day, he fell asleep, and dreamt that if he took a decoction of the tree that grew at his head, he would certainly be cured; upon which he awoke, and saw the Yaupon or Cassena Tree, which was not there when he fell asleep! He followed the direction of his dream, and became perfectly well in a short time." This traditional origin, the intelligent reader will recognise as an ingenious specimen of Indian sagacity, to secure venerated sanction for the use of a favorite article. In another amusing relic of the last century, (Brickell's “Natural History of North Carolina,") the author says, "it is the plant whereof the tea is made, so much in request among both the Indians and christians." It is still used by the "christians" or whites wherever it grows, and is said to make, if well cured, a very pleasant beverage-preferred by many even to the "beloved tea" of China, and you know-de gustibus non disputandum.

A BACKWOODSMAN BOTANIST.

BAPTIST VINCENT LAVALL-an Inquiry.

Mr. White,-In the year 1909, the schooner Otter, Capt. Niles, on a voyage for furs from England, to the western coast of Ame rica, was lost below the mouth of Columbia river, and all on

The leaf, which is the only curious part, is radical, and spreads upon the ground, or at a little elevation above it. It is composed of a petiole or stem with broad margins, from two to four inches long, several of which surround the parent stalk. To the extremity of this stem is articulated a thick, circular leaf, fringed around on its edges with somewhat rigid ciliae, or long hairs like eye-lashes. From either side or hemisphere of the leaf, which is a little concave within, proceed three or four delicate, hair-like organs, interlacing with each other. These are arranged in such an order that an insect can hardly traverse its surface without interfer-board perished. Baptist Vincent Lavall and three others, who ing with the sensitive rights of one of these faithful sentinels, which instantly causes the two portions of the leaf to suddenly collapse, and enclose the little intruder with a force surpassing its efforts to escape. The irritability of the leaf, resides only in these capillary processes; as it may be touched in any other part without perceptible effects. The little prisoner is not immedi-tensively through the south western states, in one of which it is ately crushed and destroyed, as is sometimes supp sed, but is held in "durance vile" until it ceases to str.ggle; after which the two portions of the leaf gradually un

were on shore hunting, owed the preservation of their lives to
this circumstance. Not being taken off, they were obliged to
travel to the United States on foot, crossing the Rocky Moun-
tains and descending the Red River. Lavall's MS. account of
their journey and adventures is still in existence, and it is thought
would prove interesting at this period, when attention is becom
ing directed to the possessions of the United States on the Pacific.
It has however been thought right first to ascertain whether
Mr. Lavall is still living, and as your Messenger circulates ex-
believed that Mr. Lavall afterwards settled, it has been judged
the fittest medium for inquiring if he is still alive, and if not, the
time and place of his decease; which inquiry it is hoped that
Yours respectfully,

editors who may see this note will repeat.
Philadelphia, 1838.

D.