Forma.—Folia habet hederae similia, minora tamen, ramulos exiguos circumplectentes quodcumque contigerint. Folia denique ejus scansili ordine alterna subeunt. Flores primum candidos lilii effigie, dein in puniceum vergentes, profert. Semen angulosum in folliculis acinorum specie.
Locus.—In vineis nascitur, unde etiam ei appellatio cissampeli, ut diximus, indita est.
Tempus.—Aestate, potissimum autem Julio et Augusto mensibus, floret.‘
Hieronymus Bock[11], at page 299 of his ‘Herbal,’ published at Strassburg in 1560, describes the same plant and Convolvulus sepium as follows:
‘Of the white wind-bell.
‘Two common wind-plants grow everywhere in our land with white bell-flowers. The larger prefers to dwell by hedges, and creeps over itself, twists and twines, etc. The little wind- or bell-flower (Convolvulus arvensis) is like the large one with its roots, round stems, leaves and bell-flowers, in all things smaller, thinner, and shorter. Some flowers on this plant are quite white, some of a beautiful flesh colour, painted with reddish brown streaks. It grows in dry meadows, in herb-and onion-gardens, and does harm therein, because with its creeping and twining it oppresses other garden herbs, and is also bad to exstirpate, because the thin white rootlets make their way deep downwards, spread very widely, and are continually putting forth new and young clusters like hops.’
Then follows a long paragraph on the names, that is, a critical review of the opinions of different writers on the question, which of Dioscorides’ or Pliny’s names should be applied to the plant described. ‘I must think,’ says Bock, ‘that this flower is a wild sort, Scammonia Dioscoridis (but harmless), which herb Dioscorides also calls colophonia, dactylion, apopleumenon, sanilum, and colophonium,’ and so on. Then follows a chapter on its virtue and effect externally and internally.
As regards the arrangement of the 567 species described by Bock, he divides his book into three parts, the first and second containing the smaller herbs, the third the shrubs and trees. In each part closely allied plants are generally described in larger or smaller numbers one immediately after another, though the compiler is all the time under the influence of very various considerations, and follows no general principle. For instance, our Convolvulus stands in the midst of a number of other very different plants, which either climb as the ivy, or twine with tendrils as Smilax; then follows Lysimachia Nummularia, which simply runs along the ground, then the hop, Solanum Dulcamara, Clematis, Bryonia, Lonicera, and different Cucurbitaceae; immediately after come the Burdocks, Teasels, and Thistles, and these are followed by some Umbelliferae. The whole work is conceived in a similar spirit; the feeling for relationship is clearly to be traced within very narrow circles, but it finds imperfect expression and is frequently disturbed by reference to biological habit; this appears especially in the beginning of the third part, which treats of shrubs generally, shrubs which form hedges, and trees, ‘as they grow in our German land’; the first chapter is on the fungi which grow on trees, the second on some mosses, and these are followed immediately by the mistletoe. Then come the heather and some smaller shrubs, and finally larger and the largest trees. The chapter on Fungi under the section ‘Of names’ contains a statement of views on the nature of fungi, such as are often repeated even into the 17th century: ‘Mushrooms are neither herbs nor roots, neither flowers nor seeds, but merely the superfluous moisture of the earth and trees, of rotten wood and other rotten things. From such moisture grow all tubera and fungi. This is plain from the fact that all the above-mentioned mushrooms, those especially which are used for eating, grow most when it will thunder or rain, as Aquinas Ponta says. For this reason the ancients paid peculiar regard to them, and were of opinion that tubera, since they come up from no seed, have some connection with the sky; Porphyrius speaks also in this manner, and says that fungi and tubera are called children of the gods, because they are born without seeds and not as other kinds.’
We pass over Valerius Cordus, Conrad Gesner, Mattioli[12], and some other unimportant writers, and turn to Dodoens, de l’Écluse, and Dalechamps, in whom a marked tendency to orderly arrangement appears, though the principle of arrangement in all three lies essentially in points external and accidental, and above all in the relations of the plant-world to mankind. Within the divisions thus artificially formed a constantly increasing attention is paid to natural affinities, but at the same time allied forms are separated without scruple in deference to the artificial principle of classification. It can also be plainly seen, that these writers think more of giving some order to their matter than of discovering the arrangement that will be in conformity with nature. It is impossible to give the reader a good idea of these classifications in our scientific language; it would be necessary to transcribe them. For brevity’s sake we will here quote de l’Écluse only[13], the best of the three writers named above. In his ‘Rariorum plantarum historia,’ which appeared as early as 1576, but which lies before the writer of these pages in the edition of 1601, the first book treats of trees, shrubs, and undershrubs; the second of bulbous plants; the third of sweet-smelling flowers; the fourth of those without smell; the fifth of poisonous, narcotic, and acrid plants; the sixth of those that have a milky juice, and of Umbelliferae, Ferns, Grasses, Leguminosae, and some Cryptogams.
A similar arrangement is found in Dalechamps[14]; that of Dodoens in his ‘Pemptades’ is more perplexed and unnatural; but the design in both of them is evidently much the same as that of de l’Écluse. This design is best seen from the introductory observations to each book; de l’Écluse, for instance, says at page 127, ‘Having treated of the history of trees, shrubs, and undershrubs, and put these together in the preceding book, we will now in this second book describe such plants as have a bulbous or tuberous root, many of which attract and delight the eyes of all persons in an extraordinary degree by the elegance and variety of their flowers, and which therefore ought not to have the lowest place assigned to them among garland-plants (‘inter coronarias’). We will begin with the plants of the lily kind, on account of their size and the beauty of their flowers, etc. etc.‘ The introductions to the several books of the ‘Pemptades’ of Dodoens are more learned and more diffuse. It is plain that the composers of these works had no thought of arranging their matter on the principles of a true natural system, but were only anxious to give some kind of order to their descriptions of individual plants. Hence their divisions do not appear under the names of classes and subdivisions (‘genera majora et minora,’ as they would have been called at that time), but they are sections of the whole work kept as symmetrical as was possible. If we would discover in these works whatever may really lay claim to systematic value, we must not rely on the sections as they are typographically distinguished, but must observe within each of them the order in which the plants are given, and then it becomes apparent that within the frame once established forms naturally allied are, as far as may be, grouped together. For instance, we find in the second book of de l’Écluse’s work first of all a long list of true Liliaceae and Asphodeleae, Melanthaceae, and Irideae described in unbroken succession; then comes Calamus, and then without any explanation a number of the Ranunculaceae, among which the genera Ranunculus and Anemone are very well distinguished; but then follows the genus Cyclamen with several species, and next a number of Orchideae, in the middle of which appear Orobanche and Corydalis, followed by Helleborus niger, Veratrum album, Polygonatum, and others. So it is in the other sections, though in general the species of a genus stand together, and even the genera of a family are not unfrequently united; but with all this there are no proper breaks, because other considerations are perpetually disturbing the feeling for natural relationship. The descriptions of de l’Écluse are generally commended, and they deserve to be commended for their fulness of detail and their attention to the structure of the flowers, though he, like de l’Obel and Dodoens, describes the leaves more minutely than any other part of the plant.