share of that increase is due to the labours of Patrick Weston Joyce. And they are indebted to him in the second place for the admirable example he has set them by his persevering and ceaseless industry in this good cause, by his untiring labours in acquiring and spreading abroad this precious knowledge. We must bear in mind, too, the circumstances in which the work was accomplished. It occupied the last fifty years of his life. For the first thirty of these this work was an addition to his serious and onerous official duties. For the succeeding twenty years, after his retirement at the age of sixty-six, it was continued in face of the growing difficulty added by advancing old age. Yet his energy never slackened; he continued working until the very last. Throughout life he was a quiet and unpretentious man, of a rather retiring disposition, shunning publicity as far as possible, spending most of his time in his study. He took part, however, in the activities of various learned bodies: he became a member of the Royal Irish Academy in 1863, and served on its Council in 1884 and 1885; he was one of the Commissioners for the publication of the Ancient Laws of Ireland; and he was elected to the honourable position of President of the Royal Society of Antiquaries. As one might gather from his books and from his upbringing, he was a Catholic of the strongest convictions, and of conscientious care in fulfilling all the observances of the Church. He had married, in 1856, Caroline, daughter of Lieutenant John Waters, of Baltinglass, Co. Wicklow, and he left after him sons who have already won their own distinction. The literary traditions of the family are being continued by his eldest son, Mr. Weston St. J. Joyce, who is an authority on topography, and is author of The Neighbourhood of Dublin, and other works. Two other sons, Dr. Garret W. Joyce, J.P., and Dr. Robert Dwyer Joyce, follow the medical profession like their poet uncle. May the example of this tireless worker inspire many Irishmen to devote themselves to the cause of Irish learning with a zeal like his own and with the high purpose which he expresses in old Irish fashion in the beginning of his Social History: "The cause of writing the same book is to give glory to God, honour to Ireland, and knowledge to those who desire to learn all about. the old Irish people.' J. O'B. WHY WILDFLOWERS HY should we take an interest in wildflowers? Many, perhaps most, of us pass them by heedlessly, regarding them as humble things of little account. Yet they are fashioned and coloured, and set in their chosen surroundings with the infinite care and skill of the supremely Great Artist. They are really very beautiful, more beautiful often than even their cultivated brothers and sisters. Another reason of a practical nature is, that interest in them supplies a very agreeable means of passing away hours of leisure, and adds a new delight to walks and country rambles. There is a further reason which, perhaps, will weigh much with some people, namely, the increased power one gets of appreciating many beautiful passages in writers, old and new, and most especially the poets, when one has a knowledge of or, at least, can recognise the flowers they mention in their works. For example, we read in Tennyson's "Gareth and Lynette": In either hand he bore What dazzled all, and shone far off as shines And again : As if the flower, That blows a globe of after arrowlets, Ten thousand-fold had grown, flash'd the fierce shield, The beauty of the comparison in the first passage is lost on the reader who does not know the Charlock, or what a field of Charlock is like in the circumstances mentioned; while in the second the glory of the shield blazing, all sun, is splendidly vivid for one who knows that the flower, ten thousand-fold grown, that blows a globe of after arrowlets, to which the poet likens it, is the common dandelion-a truly glorious shield itself when fully expanded in a hot sun. Or, to take another example from the same poet, from "The Brook" And even while she spoke, I saw where James 16 The full beauty of this is recognised only by one who is familiar with the feathery cream-coloured heads of the meadowsweet. These are only a couple of illustrations from Tennyson, who is perhaps the greatest of English flower-poets. One might add to them numberless images and references from other writers. The object of these pages will be attained if they induce some of our readers to take an interest in this most pleasant recreation of flower-seeking, or help those already so disposed, to make some advance in the knowledge of common plants. For this end, most of the flowers mentioned are at present in bloom, and many of them may be found in any largesized garden where certain spots are left at times unplanted or unweeded, or else in the nearest fields. Once the beauty of the wildflowers has taken the heart captive many will be the bright hours spent in fields and lanes and bogs, strolling along hedges fragrant with hawthorn, and later tangled with blushing wild-roses and woodbine and with the yellow and purple bittersweet, and many the happy expeditions over flower-clad plains and mountains burning with furze in the heat of summer. A new influence will have been gained to keep one alive from November to January-the anticipation of the first snowdrops and celandines. The 22nd December will no longer be merely the shortest day of the year: it will become one of the last milestones on the non-flowering stage of the year's journey from summer to summer." "A thing of beauty is a joy for ever," wrote Keats, and added: Such the sun, the moon, Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon With the green world they live in; and clear rills 'Gainst the hot season; the mid-forest brake, Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms. Who would associate the notion of beauty with that truly lowly plant, the rib-wort Plantain, which children use for play *For those who would wish to have a useful reference book of a popular character, Johns' Flowers of the Field (George Routledge & Sons, London, 1911 edition, 7s. 6d.), can be recommended. Besides good descriptions, and woodcuts, it has ninety-six splendid coloured plates, most of which represent three or four plants. ing conquerors"? Every lawn, every field produces it, a dull black or brown head on a long stem, rising from a bunch of lance-like green ribbed leaves, and shaggy when ripe with a beard of creamy anthers. Place it under a lens, and it becomes a collection of graceful chalices, over which the anthers tremble on their long filaments. Or with the common fragrant Butterbur, with its inverted tassels of flower-heads? At first one is struck only by its almond smell, but examine it closely and you will find that the centre of each head consists of tiny wax-like blossoms on long white tubes, resembling somewhat the lilies one sees in pictures of St. Aloysius, crowned with white oblong pistils and purple anthers. The rim flowers of the clusters are pinkish white, and wholly different in shape. A brother of this flower, the common Butterbur, produces the largest leaf of any plant in these countries, measuring at times five feet across. They both grow in shrubberies, along walls and by streams, giving but small chance of life to anything that tries to establish itself in their preserves. The Butterbur, Daisies ("the pearled Arcturi of the earth," Shelley calls them, because they never wholly leave us), the Dandelion, and Groundsel, and many others are not single flowers, but belong to what is termed the Compound or Composite family. Each is made up of numerous minute flowers gathered together on a single base or receptacle at the top of the stem. Thus when children pull the big meadow daisies, and pluck off the white "leaves " to play "He loves me, he loves me not," the "leaves " are in reality flowers, as also are the brown or yellow little things that make up the velvety ball in the centre. A very beautiful member of this family is the Chicory, whose roasted roots are so largely mixed with coffee. It may be found in August or after, among potatoes, or in cultivated ground, its long trailing stem bearing large star-like heads of very blue flowers. Others which, perhaps, like human beings in similar circumstances, might prefer to forget the humble connexion, are the Artichoke, the great Sunflower, the Dahlia, and the golden Marigold of our gardens. One of the most striking flower effects I have seen was on the sultry afternoon of the 30th July, 1911, just before the bursting of the greatest thunderstorm of recent years. It was a large field of yellow Ragwort on the banks of the Liffey, blazing fiercely in the coppery light, as if preparing to play a part with the lightning in the coming storm. This flower is also a composite. One of Wordsworth's |