TIBULLUS ; OR, THE PLEASURES OF THE BOTANIST.
pHILOSOPEIERS have very frequently remarked on the diversity which exists between men's occupa- tions and the pastimes of their leisure hours. Our friend Tibullus has chosen the business of a dealer in stocks and shares, from which he derives such a considerable income as would enable him to play a leading part in the world of fashion; yet the only occupation of his leisure time and the sole interest of his life is botany. Tibullus is no longer young, and moreover affects a style of dress quite out of mode ; being once quizzed in the City about the out of his coat, be explained very good bnmouredly that he found the broad tails and deep pockets most convenient for containing the tin boxes for collecting specimens, without which he never stirred from the house. He then produced, amidst general laughter, from the deep capacities of his pockets, .s couple of large bait-boxes such as anglers use for storing their worms. Our friend had often assured us that the botanist could never know when he might not come across some rare botanical specimen which he might be desirous of securing, and that London itself had an excellent cryptogamic flora. On leaving the City, where he is regarded as a harmless eccentric, our friend hastens back to his house in Bloomsbury; being unmarried, he is able, without opposition, to devote him.
self and the interior of this establishment to his favourite pursuit. On the staircase are hung the finer specimens of his
celebrated collection of prints of botanists of all ages ; upon the walls of his dining room he has gathered no less than forty different engravings of Linnaeus, for whom he frequently ex- presses the greatest admiration, and whose birthday he never forgets to keep by a dinner given to kindred botanical spirits. Other rooms are devoted to cabinets, which contain his Hortus Siccus (as he is pleased to call it) or collections of dried plants, all gathered, pressed, and mounted on sheets of paper by his own hands. On these cabinets our friend has had painted various texts, such as "0, all ye green things upon the earth, bless ye the Lard," with others from the psalms of David ; as well as quotations from other poets re- ferring to the study of plants and the beauties of the vegetable world. To form these collections, our friend has travelled over every part of the United Kingdom; for it is a whim of his to take no interest in any but British plants. Another botanist, knowing that Tibullus was anxious to secure a cer- tain rare plant for his cabinet., brought him some specimens -from Calais. Our friend professed himself at first greatly obliged, but, on discovering where the specimens had grown, could not conceal his disappointment ; and we subsequently 'observed, so little did he value them, that when the giver had left he cast them behind the fire.
We recollect, upon one occasion, taking a party of children ..to the top of St. Paul's, and discovering, to our surprise, Tibullus in the Golden Gallery under the ball. He explained that he was endeavouring to secure some species of lichen which, so far as he knew, only grew on the stones there. Having by the aid of our walking-sticks dislodged a small patch, he placed it in his collecting-box, and returned to his 'office in Throgmorton Street, we doubt not as contented as if some stocks he had bought were rising ten points a day. Our friend has set himself the task of seeing in a wild and natural state every species of plant mentioned in Mr. Bentham's "British Flora," and so busy has he been in this botanical pursuit, that he claims to have already seen thirteen hundred 'species out of the total thirteen hundred and fifteen. Every time we meet him we inquire how many he has yet to find, and he always replies with a less number. So deep-rooted is this love of his hobby that he thinks no journey too long or too arduous if he can strike one species off the list.
We remember on another occasion meeting our old friend 'tramping along the Portsmouth road, between Guildford and Godalming. He declared himself on the way to a certain common, where Cyperus fuscus,a minute species of sedge, was o be seen growing, it being the only place in Great Britain where this satisfaction was offered to the botanist. Our friend had never visited this sacred spot before, and his .ogitation and emotion were quite painful to witness ; nor .shall we ever forget how he whooped and holloaed and tossed hie cap into the air when our search was rewarded. Certain custice that were passing along the road made a coarse joke, insinuating that the old fellow was in liquor, to which he :made a very dignified reply, but afterwards confessed to us he had rather they should think him drunk than know the treasure he had just found, for he was sure they would return and tear it all up by the roots. But upon our reminding him that what was a treasure to him was but a weed to them, he was pacified. We must
'confess, from our observations on this and several other cccasions, that we believe the pleasant emotions of the
• botanist on finding a new species are hardly equalled by any -which this world offers to mankind. Indeed, we remember that in his early years Tibullus was a martyr to melancholy ,depression ; and he has often declared to us that be never knew what happiness was until he took up botanical pursuits. Our friend was once rallied by some members of the company for being a recluse ; and one young lady archly inquired: "'What was his greatest happiness ?" To which he humor. ously, but we believe truly, made answer : "Grubbing in a ditch for a rare plant that does not grow there."
We need hardly say that all the old gentleman's vacations :are spent in botanical excursions. A country walk in his company involves a halt every few paces (whilst he 'makes notes in his pocket-book, or stores away speci- mens in the vasculum which he carries slung across ins back), as well as many diversions to rubbish-heaps mad bite of waste land, where, he informs us, some of
the best things are often to be found. He quarters a stubble- field with all the eagerness of a spaniel hunting for a wounded partridge ; and it was for years his ambition to add a new plant to the British list, but this he has now given up, several species which he advanced as deserving recognition as wild British plants having been pronounced escapes. In the winter he is mainly occupied with arranging his herbarium and attending the meetings of the botanical learned societies. His library is unrivalled, and he is himself the author of "A Flora Londinensis ; or, Catalogue of Wild Plants Found within a Four-Mile Radius of Charing Cross." This work was well spoken of at the time of its publication; but since the County Council have taken over the weeding of some of the London parks, it is completely out of date. He has a great collection of maps of these islands, on which he has indicated all the stations of the rarer plants. Many of these plants, he tells us, are only found in one spot, and to these he makes annual pilgrimages to assure himself of their continued existence. The first of May being a holiday on 'Change, our friend devotes it to an excursion to Hampstead Heath, where he goes through the catalogue of plants he used to find there fifty years ago, and annually laments the increasing poverty of the flora.
Tibullus has given us to understand that the magnum opus of his life is to be a vast work on the distribution of the plants of our islands, based entirely on his personal observations. We once inquired of a high botanical authority whether this forthcoming work would be of any scientific value, and were told, in reply : "Not the slightest." We may, however, in conclusion, repeat that Tibullus is one of the happiest of mortals.
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