Its stem, from two and a half to four inches in length, is embellished with radical oblong leaves, disposed in fours, and short caulinary leaves, opposite and linear; the corolla is yellow, the calyx has four triangular lobes; the stamens also are four. It is this predominant number which has induced some botanists to elevate our little gentian into a species of Exacum or Cicendia,—two genera, of which the first was named by Adamson, the second by De Candolle. As for the tiny Gentiana pusilla, or Exacum pusillum, we may look upon it as a simple variety of the Exacum filiforme, differing from the latter only in its shorter and feebler stem, in the somewhat narrower divisions of its calyx, and the tint of its corolla, which is of a paler yellow, sometimes inclining to rose.
Botanists, or lovers of flowers, may grow as passionately fond of gentians as some persons do of tulips or hyacinths. But it is not in England or Scotland, it is in the Alpine pastures of Switzerland only, that you can hope to satisfy your Gentianomania.
An Alpine Excursion.
Permit me, dear reader, to set down a few hints, in case you should at any time be disposed to make a pilgrimage into the Golden Land, or El Dorado, of botanists and geologists.
Fig. 59.—An Alpine Landscape.
Before you plunge into the Alps, you will meet, in the sub-alpine regions, among the valleys which intersect and the meadows which clothe the lower spurs of the Jura, the Gentiana campestris. It is a plant of from five to six inches in height, whose blue, five-lobed corolla, with its velvety gorge, changes into yellow when dried; the two outer teeth of the calyx are elliptical, and much larger than the others. Your attention will hardly be drawn to this tiny gentian among the crowd of more beautiful and attractive plants blooming around it.
One excursion which you should not fail to make is the ascent of the Dent de Jaman,—the hieroglyphic summit of one of those charming mountains which mirror themselves in the Lake of Geneva. This classical, and, moreover, very easy ascent, has the advantage of carrying you up a series of terraces, so that the character of the vegetation changes rapidly. The acclivity begins at the little town of Montreux, situated near the point where the blue arrowy Rhone pours its waters into the enchanted lake. From Montreux to the village of Glion, you will be delighted to greet your old acquaintances: the familiar faces of your native fields, meadows, and woodlands. But soon a difference in the character of the flora forces itself upon you. Species which are rarer at home become tolerably common, as, for instance, the yellow digitalis (Digitalis lutea), so easily recognised by its cymes of tiny flowers. The vulneraria (Anthyllis vulneraria) is as widely diffused as the trefoil in our English pastures.
A little above Glion,—a picturesque village apparently hung over the lake—the sub-alpine region commences. Around villas and mansions, nearly all inhabited by English families, you will find in abundance the English mercury (Chenopodium Bonus Henricus), and in the shady hedges the narcotic Herb-Paris (Paris quadrifolia).