The late Mr. James of Exeter wrote to me on this subject:  ’This orchis is common near our sea-coasts; but instead of being exactly like a BEE, it is not like it at all.  It has a general resemblance to a fly, and by the help of imagination, may be supposed to be a fly pitched upon the flower.  The mandrake very frequently has a forked root, which may be fancied to resemble thighs and legs.  I have seen it helped out with nails on the toes.’

An ingenious botanist, a stranger to me, after reading this article, was so kind as to send me specimens of the fly orchis, ophrys muscifera, and of the bee orchis, ophrys apifera.  Their resemblance to these insects when in full flower is the most perfect conceivable; they are distinct plants.  The poetical eye of Langhorne was equally correct and fanciful; and that too of Jackson, who differed so positively.  Many controversies have been carried on, from a want of a little more knowledge; like that of the BEE orchis and the FLY orchis; both parties prove to be right."[094]

THE FUCHSIA.

The Fuchsia is decidedly the most graceful flower in the world.  It unfortunately wants fragrance or it would be the beau ideal of a favorite of Flora.  There is a story about its first introduction into England which is worth reprinting here: 

’Old Mr. Lee, a nurseryman and gardener, near London, well known fifty or sixty years ago, was one day showing his variegated treasures to a friend, who suddenly turned to him, and declared, ’Well, you have not in your collection a prettier flower than I saw this morning at Wapping!’—­’No! and pray what was this phoenix like?’ ’Why, the plant was elegant, and the flowers hung in rows like tassels from the pendant branches; their colour the richest crimson; in the centre a fold of deep purple,’ and so forth.  Particular directions being demanded and given, Mr. Lee posted off to Wapping, where he at once perceived that the plant was new in this part of the world.  He saw and admired.  Entering the house, he said, ’My good woman, that is a nice plant.  I should like to buy it.’—­’I could not sell it for any money, for it was brought me from the West Indies by my husband, who has now left again, and I must keep it for his sake.’—­’But I must have it!’—­’No sir!’—­’Here,’ emptying his pockets; ‘here are gold, silver, copper.’ (His stock was something more than eight guineas.)—­’Well a-day! but this is a power of money, sure and sure.’—­’’Tis yours, and the plant is mine; and, my good dame, you shall have one of the first young ones I rear, to keep for your husband’s sake,’—­’Alack, alack!’—­’You shall.’  A coach was called, in which was safely deposited our florist and his seemingly dear purchase.  His first work was to pull off and utterly destroy every vestige of blossom and bud.  The plant was divided into cuttings, which were forced in bark beds and hotbeds; were redivided and subdivided.  Every