BRAMBLE. verdure in the great heat of summer, as well as in the severe frosts of winter, and demands little care from the gardener for years, until, as in some soils, it grows too high and too thick to be pleasing. Then it needs to be taken up, subdivided, and re-planted. It was much admired by the Romans, by whom the taller-growing kinds were cut into grotesque forms, to resemble men, animals, &c. It is a tree which appears to be unchanged by time; hence it well represents that stoicism which, according to Zeno, distinguishes the wise man, who is not moved either by joy, grief, or any other passion, and who looks upon all events as ruled by inevitable necessity. The wood of the Box-tree is highly valuable, especially in the estimation of the lover of knowledge, for the facility which it gives to artists to convey pictorial lessons in every branch of science, whereby the meaning of a writer is rendered more precise and exact to the reader; it is also useful for many other purposes, which are too numerous to mention here. THE BRAMBLE (Rubus fruticosus).—ENVY. THE Bramble is very well known to us, growing everywhere in our woods and hedges. Its long trailing prickly stems throw themselves outwards from the hedges, by our road-sides and footpaths, and now and then lay hold of the loose parts of the garments of pedestrians, who cannot readily release themselves. On this account we have heard these A BROKEN STRAW. branches facetiously called "lawyers," in some parts of England, where these gentlemen are supposed not to let a client off easily when they get one. The bramble creeps along through hedges, strikes roots afresh, keeps off sun and air from the young shoots of the hawthorn, and seems to choke every thing which it comes near; just as envy, stealthily, treacherously, and spitefully, seeks to destroy the character and possessions of one who is seemingly prosperous in wealth, or friends, or esteem. Miss Twamley assigns the bramble to a girl who is crabbed, and displeased with another more amiable than herself, "Yon Bramble fling to Rachel Rann So crabby and so spiteful;" and most aptly does this wild, rough, and prickly plant befit this very objectionable trait. Yet the Bramble affords us some pleasure by its pretty pink flowers, and perhaps still more by its fruit, the blackberry, which, when fully ripe, are very agreeable to the palate, and cooling; if eaten before, they are unpleasant and sour, and if when over ripe, they are nauseous. They make agreeable tarts, but are somewhat insipid. A BROKEN STRAW.-RUPTURE. DISSENSION. THE custom of breaking a straw, to intimate the rupture of all mutual obligations, may be traced to a very early period. Madame de la Tour claims for it even a royal A BROKEN STRAW. origin. She says that the old Chroniclers relate how Charles the Simple, in the year 922, when he saw that he was forsaken by the chief of his barons, summoned an assembly in the Champs de Mai, at Soissons. He looked among them for friends, but found only a factious crew, whose audacity his own weakness served only to increase. Some reproached him with indolence, with his prodigalities, and for his blind trust in Haganon, his minister. Others complained loudly of his dishonourable concessions to Raoul, the Norman chief. Surrounded by this seditious multitude, he entreated, he promised, and sought to escape them by betraying fresh weaknesses, but all in vain. When they saw him devoid of all moral courage, their insolence knew no bounds; they declared that he was no longer their king. At these words, which they uttered with every gesture of violence, and accompanied with threats, they advanced to the foot of the throne, broke some straws which they had in their hands, cast them rudely upon the ground and withdrew, having expressed by this meaning action that they renounced their allegiance to him. This is the most ancient example of the kind known to us; but it proves that, long ago, this expressive mode of breaking treaties was in use, since the great vassals of the weak king did not consider that any words were needed in explanation; they felt sure that they would be understood, and they were so. There is a considerable space of time between the above and the comic scene in the Dépit amoureux of Molière; yet the one is the origin of the other; at least they have their A BROKEN STRAW. source in the same popular custom; there is only the difference of time. That which of old served to dethrone a monarch, and revolutionize a nation, is now used only to express the desolation of a heart. Happy are the loving hearts whose discords terminate so well as the revolutions of early times! Yet far happier they, where dissension never arises, though, it may be, they are few in number, since— "Alas-how light a cause may move Dissension between hearts that love!— That stood the storm when waves were rough,— And hearts, so lately mingled, seem As though its waters ne'er could sever, MOORE, Lalla Rookh. The Broom and its kindred genera were great favourites among the Greeks and Romans. One writer says that wherever Cytisus grows, there bees never abandoned their hives; and Pliny says of him (Aristomachus), that he was so devotedly fond of bees, that for fifty-eight years of his life he continued to raise swarms. The Spanish Broom (Spartium junceum), a yellow-flowered species, is cultivated for its beauty A BROKEN STRAW. and perfume when in bloom. It is grown for feeding sheep in France, and in Spain is much used for cordage. Scott notices the toughness of the fibrous roots, which would make them useful for such a purpose :— "And now, to issue from the glen, No pathway meets the wanderer's ken, A far projecting precipice. The Broom's tough roots his ladder made; And thus an airy point he won." An indigenous species (S. scoparium) is very beautiful in its native wilds, where the Broom bears her blossoms, "Yellow and bright as bullion unalloyed," in the pleasant months of April, May, and June, of which Wordsworth was thinking when he wrote,— “’Twas that delightful season, when the Broom, Along the copses runs in veins of gold." In bushy places, thickets, and on sandy hills, it displays its beauties most charmingly; and Burns admired it so greatly that it inspired him with the following exulting lines,— "Their groves o' sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon, Where bright beaming summers exalt the perfume; Far dearer to me yon lone glen o' green breckan, |